Difficult Choices Made at Sea
by neldluva
Summary: This is slash. WOC: Will will follow Seamus anywhere, but how deep is his love in reality?
1. The Choice of Beds

Hello again! I just had this story itching to get out of me. It's sort of a continuation of my previous story, "Jack Sparrow's Story." If I ever finish that, it will explain a great deal of what's going on here. This is a story for those who liked my previous work but wanted a little more action, or slash. This will satisfy that craving, I hope.  
  
WARNING: This contains adult themes! It is also slash, meaning it includes a relationship between two men! Please go away and never come back if this will offend you.  
  
ANOTHER WARNING: I am neither male nor have I had much experience in the sex department. Comments are appreciated as to the content, the handling, etc. I take only what I have read before.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I own none of the POTC men or anything. I just like to have some fun with them once in a while. I do, however, own Seamus. He is tied to my bed, where I feed him cookies and apple cider. He is quite happy. No men were hurt (too much) in the making of this fanfic.  
  
You should read my other story if you expect this to make any sense whatsoever. If you have read "Jack Sparrow's Story," you know how much I like reviews. So please please please review!  
  
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I don't know what I expected to find when after I left Port Royal with Jack Sparrow. He was a rascal, that was for sure. He was a dirty, smelly pirate to the depths of his being, if his being had depths. I didn't know the amount of trust I could put in this dubious character. Still, he had promised to help me find and rescue Elizabeth when no one else would. And thus it came to be that I was aboard the fastest ship in the Fleet, alone with said smelly pirate.  
  
I awoke that morning after we had been all night at sea. My rebelling stomach carried me to the starboard rail of the ship, where anything I had eaten in the last day spilled out to the ocean. When I was finally able to look up, I saw Jack. His hands were loosely on the wheel, watching me with a somewhat malicious smile.  
  
"Too bad about that there, Will," he said, slurring his words as though he were drunk, even if we hadn't an ounce of alcohol with us. "Give it a few days, boy, ye'll be running 'cross this ship."  
  
I gave him a wry smile, all I could muster in present conditions. I stepped up to join him. "Where are we going?" I asked. To tell the truth, I could have cared less. All I could see miles around was clear blue-green ocean. The horizon called to me, and I could feel myself sweeping towards her, the salt wind in my face. I felt free, as I had never felt before, when I had been chained my forge.  
  
"This port I know about," Jack said without looking at me. "We'll need to find us a crew, and provisions. Ye might 've noticed there isn't much tuh fill your belly aboard this boat. There's a man I know about who can fix us up with everything. Right with you?"  
  
He did look at me then. Ever since I had told him my name it seemed his nasty pirate visage had lessened when he spoke to me, as though he pitied me. But I needed no pity. I answered back with as much strength my voice could produce.  
  
"It's right with me."  
  
He smiled, reminding me of a wolf. A flash of gold teeth shone in his weather-beaten face before he faced forward again.  
  
~  
  
I could not deny excitement at the adventure I had undertaken; sailing to new lands, seeing new and exotic peoples, it had been somewhat of a dream of mine. However, that excitement cooled when we reached Tortuga, the port Jack was so eager to get to. We tied up the Interceptor at the dock, and I paid the dockkeeper the asked-for shillings when Jack "forgot."  
  
"Bloody pirate," I muttered to myself.  
  
The city was full of life, even with full dark approaching. Liquor of all sorts flowed freely out of apparently communal kegs, keeping all in high spirits. Well-fed (and well-used) whores stood around doorways and alleys, waving and showing their low necklines. Jack's eyes glimmered; no doubt this felt like home to him. Just when I was wondering where we could be going, a woman strode up to Jack.  
  
He called out a name, Scarlett, perhaps, opening his arms. To my surprise, she slapped him smartly across the face. Before he could fairly recover, another came in her wake.  
  
"Jazelle!" he cried. Once more Jack was spun around, a vivid red handprint on each cheek. I could hardly keep from laughing as he shook himself like a dog.  
  
"Come along then, Will," he said, turning around to face me again. "We've got business."  
  
Our business took us around to the back of an inn where we found a pigsty. Grabbing a bucket of water, Jack hurled it on the sleeping animals. To my shock, a man stood up. This was no wonder of a specimen. His clothing was stained, his balding head unkempt, face red with consumption of Tortuga's strong ale. And he stank to high heaven. I struggled to keep my feet, barely hearing what Jack said to him. Whatever it was, he acceded. To the relief of us all, I doused him with another bucket of water to rinse off the rancid smell of him. He was a bit angry with that.  
  
If I had thought I would be included in whatever Jack was scheming, I would have been wrong. When we walked into the inn, Jack and the man (Gibbs, he said his name was) sat at a table, shooing me away. I leaned against a column close by, but with the raucous atmosphere I could not hear a word they said. Over the din of the room, I made out one word, which I thought might have been "leverage." Therego, I was left at the mercy of the partygoers, with naught but a mug of ale.  
  
Much to my surprise, I soon had a little group of women gathered around me. Not a few wrapped their arms around my neck and pressed themselves against me, urging me to pay for a night with them. Just as I was about to go outside to get some fresh air, Jack and Gibbs called me back over. I sat across from them, an empty chair to my right.  
  
"Thought you could use some rescuing, boy," Jack said, with a nod towards the particularly wide woman who had taken an interest in me. I grimaced in response, downing a good bit of the ale in one gulp. Neither of my companions offered any more conversation, so I sat back in my seat. My mind raced to Elizabeth, wondering where she was and how she was.  
  
"Where is he?" Jack murmured to himself, drumming his brown fingers on the table.  
  
"Who?" I asked.  
  
"Our man, the man who can get us that crew and all." Jack beckoned me closer. "His name is not spoken in polite society."  
  
"The most feared pirate in all the seas, excepting our Jack here." Gibbs swallowed. "They say he took on an entire ship of the fleet, single handed, and left not one man alive."  
  
"That's a bunch of rot," Jack said. "Seamus isn't concerned with that sort of thing. But 'e does have the quickest fingers I ever saw. King of Thieves, 'e is. Want something stolen, call for Seamus."  
  
"Seamus who?" I asked, still unknowing of whom they were talking of.  
  
"Seamus O'Riley." Jack looked about again. "And he should be here." He took another swig of rum, or whatever was in his mug. "If I ever see that flea-bitten, worm-tongued, stinkin' spawn of -"  
  
Jack never got a chance to finish his sentence, for fingers suddenly curled tightly around his shoulder.  
  
"What's that, Jack?" A voice, smooth and luxurious as silk curled around my ears. It was strung thick with a lovely accent, Irish, by the sound of it. A figure cloaked in black had his hand tight around Jack's shoulder.  
  
"Seamus!" Jack exclaimed, leaping up to embrace the newcomer.  
  
"It's good to see ye again, old dog," Seamus answered, returning the warm squeeze. Jack laughed, seating him in the chair next to me and shouting for more ale. There was a good deal more news exchange, and I was forgotten.  
  
Which gave me time to examine this new character. The fingers that had caught Jack by such surprise were long and slender, beautiful fingers that I thought were more suited to playing a harpsichord in a fancy parlor than hanging about in a place like Tortuga. Despite the heat of the place, Seamus kept his hood and cloak on, only removing them when Jack urged him to. I was well pressed to contain a gasp at what I saw.  
  
Hearing the tale of "Seamus, the Most Fearsome Pirate," I had expected some brawny brute, drunk as could be, with muscles larger than his head. Seamus was, in reality, the opposite. Beneath the hood was curly black hair, some gathered at the back of his head, the rest held in place by a blue bandana. Black irises, keen as the sharpest honed blade, peered from eyes starkly white against dusky skin. Graceful black brows were raised, now laughing at something Gibbs had said. Smooth young skin, without blemish, without hair - he was surely younger than I was, not to even have started a beard yet. Yet there was something in his gaze that made me think of wise old men who have seen everything. This was not the face of a pirate. It screamed fierce nobility, descended of kings and emperors. No, Jack was a pirate, a scoundrel. This was a prince. I found myself wondering what it would feel like to have those lovely full lips on mine.  
  
"Who's the pup?" Seamus asked, startling me out of my thoughts.  
  
"The pup?" Jack tried to focus on me through drunken eyes. "Ah, yes. Seamus, this is Will Turner. Will, this is Seamus O'Riley. This is the lad I been tellin' you about, Seamus."  
  
I was irked at being called a pup, as though I were no full man grown. But I was lost as that endless black gaze focused on me. This one was not drunk.  
  
"You're Will Turner." It was no question. His voice resounded like a harp. "The son of Bootstrap Turner. Has it only been this long? I thought ye'd be older by now."  
  
This comment irritated me further. This man, no more than a boy, calling me a cub, then the way he said my father's name . . . Fazed by drink and tired from unwonted travel, my tongue was too loose. "At least I know who my father is. And my mother not some street-traveling whore looking for money and a chance to spread her legs."  
  
Hardly had the words left my mouth when I was left staring at a knife firmly wedged in the column behind me, barely a hairsbreadth from my temple. I felt the wind of it as it passed me. Seamus was standing, looking down on me with a glare that both frightened me and enticed me.  
  
"Insult me all you like, Will Turner," he said, and there was venom behind the lilting Irish accent, "but never, never, insult me mother and father." My blood heated, though with anger or desire it was difficult to tell.  
  
"Now, now," Jack said, glancing at the both of us as though we were two hounds at each other's throats, and he wary to come between. "We need the both of ye. Settle down, lads."  
  
Seamus considered me a while longer before sticking out his hand. "I beg yer pardon, Will Turner," he said as we shook. "I meant no offense about yer age, and I'm sorry I tossed that knife at ye."  
  
"It was my fault. I spoke out of line." The feel of his long, cool hand in mine was glorious.  
  
"There we go," he said, beaming a brilliant white smile. "Hand me back me knife, will ye?"  
  
I did as he asked, hesitating to inspect the wonderful craftsmanship put into the weapon. Too soon it was drawn away, set back in the sheath at his waist.  
  
"Now, Seamus, about the provisions," Jack continued, as though nothing had happened.  
  
"Ah, Jack, can't it wait 'til mornin'? I'm bone tired," Gibbs said with a yawn.  
  
"I suppose," Jack answered, eyeing a woman across the room. "Go on, I'll be right up. I've got some . . . business to tidy up." He licked his lips, a feral grin on his face.  
  
I followed Gibbs and Seamus up the stairs to our rooms. At the fork in the hallway, Seamus bid us good night and turned left.  
  
"Where's he going?" I asked. I longed to go after him.  
  
" 'E's got 'is own room," Gibbs replied. "But ye'll be sleeping in my room tonight, 'less you want to sleep with Jack." We both looked down to where Jack was entertaining the woman, one hand resting beneath the low neckline of her ragged dress. I shook my head; I would not sleep with that tonight.  
  
"I can't sleep with Seamus?" I asked hopefully.  
  
"Nah. Dreadful small and only one bed in there. And I don't think he likes you that much." He gave me a grin, ruining the effect with his lack of teeth. I smiled back, disguising the feelings that rushed to my mind at the thought of sharing a bed with that beautiful creature.  
  
The room was suitable, as rooms go. Two beds, a candle, a basin and pitcher, even a small armoire. We began dressing down our beds.  
  
"Gibbs, know you aught of Seamus?" I asked. That being intrigued me as no one had before, and it was not the least his mystery that enthralled me.  
  
"Not much truth is known of Seamus O'Riley. There's plenty of tales, but anyone will tell you that's codswallop. 'E's older than he looks, that one, and wily as a fox. Good man, though, good man." Gibbs' voice began to trail off, and he soon fell asleep.  
  
I blew out the candle and crawled into bed, but sleep eluded me. I tried to focus on Elizabeth, on contriving a plan to rescue her, but my thoughts kept wandering back to Seamus. Whatever feelings I had for Elizabeth was dwarfed by whatever pounded in my head at the mention of his name. That old love of Elizabeth had been that of a boy, unknowing what the world had in store for him. With my horizons broadened, I realized that Elizabeth and I really had no chance together. If she returned my feelings at all, her father or the Commodore would surely see that our marriage was discouraged, and I would go back to my forge, cold and alone. Seamus promised adventure, new sights and sounds. Perhaps even - I shuddered to myself - new sensations.  
  
My thoughts, pleasant as they were, were suddenly broken by a loud noise. It sounded like a dozen timbersmiths sawing at their wood. Gibbs, however, was what caused the terrible racket. Apparently he had a snoring problem. I rolled over, closing my eyes in an attempt to ignore the sound of his grating breathing.  
  
As if to plague me further, I heard a door open and shut from the room next to us. Mumbling I instantly recognized as Jack's leaked through the walls, followed by high-pitched, effeminate giggles. Bed springs creaked, and moans and grunts soon replaced the giggles. I shoved a pillow over my head, but nothing could keep out the combined din of my companions.  
  
I snuck out of the room, seeking solace in the only place I could think of: Seamus' room. I knocked on his door, feeling somewhat out of place.  
  
"Who's there?" he called from the other side of the door.  
  
"It's Will," I answered. The door opened a crack, revealing a knifepoint and a dark eye looking me over.  
  
"Come on in, Will," he said, once he had made sure that I was who I claimed. I stepped in, grateful for his hospitality. The room was indeed small, but cozy. Seamus gestured for me to sit at a table with two chairs. He had forsaken the cloak and hood, as well as his vest, now dressed in breeches and a shirt - half-unlaced, to my discomfort and pleasure.  
  
"What brings ye down here to me lonely little corner, lad?" he asked, sitting across from me. It didn't bother me so much, the way he called me "lad."  
  
"I couldn't sleep," I said. He nodded in understanding.  
  
"Ol' Gibbs, never could sleep if 'e was in the room. 'E still snores?"  
  
I nodded vigorously. The lone lamp put a golden glow on his skin that was utterly enticing.  
  
"Jack tells me ye're a blacksmith," he continued. He gave me a lazy, amused smile. "Ye don't strike me as a blacksmith."  
  
"You don't strike me as a pirate," I replied.  
  
"Ye were probably expectin' someone like Gibbs, aye?" He chuckled. "No, Gibbs and I are different as peas and carrots, if ye get me meanin'. But I was expectin' ye to be bigger, and older, I'll admit. Aye, stupider, too. Shows my foolishness if I thought any boy of Bootstrap's would be stupid."  
  
It was a compliment, albeit hidden, but I clutched to those sweet words as a lover clutches a letter sent from afar.  
  
"Yes," I said, "I am a blacksmith. I saw those knives you had. Do you think I could take a look?" He handed them over as if they were precious gems. And indeed, they would seem as such to any man who knew anything about smithing. The blade was made of a strong, lightweight material threaded over with runes, which continued their unreadable tracing along the hilt. I knew from experience the great amount of skill required etching this type of art into metal. "This is remarkable craftsmanship," I commented. "I've never seen knives in this style before. Where did you find them?"  
  
"I was given 'em," he answered with a smile. "They were made by me father's people, and I'd wager they're some of the keenest blacksmiths ye'll find, no offense to any of yer own work."  
  
"Where are you from?" I was desperate to know all that I could find out about Seamus O'Riley, and he seemed willing enough to volunteer information.  
  
"Ireland, couldn't you tell?" Another dazzling smile. "Actually, originally more central France, if I consider it. Haven't been back there in ages."  
  
We lapsed into a contented silence, both of us with our thoughts.  
  
"You thirsty, boy?" he asked, getting to his feet. "I've got some good Irish whisky, better by a stone's throw than whatever they give to you downstairs." Though I gave no answer, he was already up and pouring us drinks. While his back was turned, I took the chance to study the oddly shaped lump near my chair.  
  
It was a pack, ordinary enough, but a bow was strapped to it. It was a primitive weapon, but one that had a particular beauty. Carven all over with gold in runes I could read no more than the letters on the knife, it was a work of art. I wondered how such a one as Seamus came in possession of it.  
  
"It was me father's."  
  
I spun around suddenly to see Seamus watching me. There was no anger in his eyes, for which I was grateful. He set the glass of whisky down in front of me. " 'E gave it to me before 'e left."  
  
"Left where?" I asked. I damned my curiosity when Seamus took a sad look on his beautiful face.  
  
"West. Who knows where 'e is now." He downed what was in his glass.  
  
"I lost my father too," I said, trying to comfort him.  
  
"I know." He sighed, wiping the melancholy from his face and pouring himself another drink. I couldn't help but watch his smooth throat undulate as he swallowed. I tore my glance away, staring instead to a dark corner. I surrendered to my thoughts, imagining Seamus kissing me . . .  
  
"Who is she?" He startled me into consciousness. "What?"  
  
"When a man has a look like that on his face, 'e's either drunk or 'e's thinkin' of 'is lass. And judging by how much ye've got left in yer glass . . ." He gestured to my untouched whisky.  
  
Feeling myself blush, I shoved the drink down my throat. It burned like fire all the way down, and it was indeed a good deal stronger than whatever I'd been given downstairs.  
  
"Her name's Elizabeth," I said, hoping to distract myself from his black eyes. And it was true, I was thinking of her, sort of. "Elizabeth Swann. She's beautiful, like a summer day." I closed my eyes, to better put her in my mind and him out of it. "Of course she would be. She's a governor's daughter. And she has a Commodore in love with her. I stand no chance against him and her father would never give her to me; I'm only a blacksmith. But I've known her since I was young. The ship she was sailing on rescued me after pirates attacked my own ship. I was the only survivor." When I opened my eyes, he was looking at me compassionately. "She sounds like a good girl. And I'm sorry about the attack."  
  
"You weren't there, it's not your fault," I said. I dared to look him directly in the eyes. His half-open shirt and inviting gaze were more intoxicating than the whisky. I knew what my heart was telling me. "But it wasn't Elizabeth I was thinking of."  
  
He narrowed his eyes, studying me, then rose again. He stood at the window, his back to me, moonlight pouring over him in sheets. "I think ye should go back to yer room now, Will Turner. Ye need some sleep for tomorrow."  
  
I stood after him, gathering my courage. "I don't want to go back."  
  
He turned to face me again. He looked me nearly directly in the eyes, for he was slightly shorter than I was. "I think ye should go back."  
  
Hardly knowing what I was doing, I clasped him around the neck and pulled my mouth to his. His lips tasted of the heady whisky we had been drinking, and they were as soft and pleasant as I imagined. I kissed him, kissed him, as I had never dared kiss Elizabeth, as I had never even dreamed of kissing anyone until he came along. Finally, we separated. My blood beat too fast in my ears, but I was drunk on love and lust.  
  
"What do ye think to get out o' this, Will?" he asked, black eyes sweetly searching my face. "What of yer Elizabeth?"  
  
I laughed, and it was bitter, exultant as I felt. "Elizabeth was never mine, and she never will be mine. Anyway, I don't love her. I love you."  
  
I kissed him again, and this time felt his mouth open against mine, letting my probing tongue enter. I felt truly the pirate as I plundered every whisky-infused corner of his mouth. I loved the way he tasted, the way he smelled, like sea salt and cedar and wet sand and the glorious whisky, the feel of his soft black hair in my hands.  
  
"I'll do naught ye don't want, Will," he said when we parted. I fell in love with the way he said my name.  
  
"Everything, anything," I protested, wanting to feel his lips on mine again. I felt him smile as I began to kiss his jawline.  
  
"We'd be hard-pressed to get through everything tonight, Will," he said, and I caught the implication in his voice. I had worried that he might be opposed to the idea I was suggesting, but it seemed Seamus O'Riley would surprise me. I felt his hands tugging at my shirt, loosening it from my pants. Still, I could not suppress a gasp as his long fingers slid up my back.  
  
"Too much?" he asked, though did not seem all that concerned.  
  
"No," I breathed. "Perfect. Ahh -" I heard my voice trail off in a moan. Seamus certainly was more experienced than I in this activity we were pursuing, as I discovered when his hands found spots in my back that sent fire through my blood and shivers over my body. But I also knew a thing or two, in theory. I drew aside his shirt from his neck, and my lips made their way down his collarbone, rewarded with his sharp gasp. We each pulled the other closer, exploring the new body offered to us.  
  
"I can't believe I'm drunk enough to let ye do this," he said with a chuckle. "Let me take this off." Pushing me slightly away from him, he pulled his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor.  
  
Seamus stood before me in all his glory. He was even smaller than I had thought, with a narrow waist rising to only slightly broader shoulders. Though this might have made some men look weak, it only made him resemble more the clever fox his reputation made him out to be. His arms and torso were corded with slender muscle. He was strong, I could tell, from the daily labor of manning a ship. The moonlight nearly succeeded in turning his golden skin to silver.  
  
"This is going to be terribly difficult if ye keep yer clothes on," he said as he kissed me again.  
  
"Oh, yes," I said. My fumbling fingers tripped over the laces of my shirt. Finally, he sighed and lifted it off for me. At last we stood, bare- chested the both of us. Once more his hands wound around my waist and I felt him pushed hot and ready against me. He tugged me towards the bed and down to sit upon it.  
  
I pulled away slightly as his hands slipped under the waistline of my pants. Much as I had desired this moment, I had never been this intimate with anybody, and was a bit hesitant.  
  
"I've never, um . . ." I started, trying to communicate my uncertainty.  
  
"Ah," he said in response. Seamus looked at me with his sparkling black eyes. He rested his head on my shoulder. "I can show ye, and guide ye, if ye wish. But give me the word, and I'll stop. There's naught to fear in what we would do, and it only hurts if it's supposed to." He smiled reassuringly up at me, dropping his head to place a kiss at the base of my throat. I gasped at the sudden contact with the sensitive skin, but allowed him to do what he would; I trusted him with my life.  
  
Somehow it came to be that he was on top of me. Quick fingers indeed, the both of us were completely naked before I could bat an eye. I tried to kiss him, but his lips were already making their way down my chest. My hands rested on his neck, under his hair, as I struggled to stay still during his ministrations. He actually touched me very little; the brushes of lips, the soft breath, was enough to send desire pooling down in my belly. By the time his head was once again next to mine, my breathing was heavy and erratic. The kiss I placed on him was savage, desperate for contact. I was nigh on moaning with need when he abruptly rolled off me, on his back alongside me.  
  
"Yer turn now, Will," he said. Catching his train of thought, I obliged. I worshiped his body with my lips and my hands. I kissed him once, just under his ear, eliciting a gasp and the pleasure of his fingers digging into my back. I wanted to feel that again. I began to kiss his ear thoroughly, and I was given the gift of hearing soft moans from his beautiful lips. I edged the bandana half-covering his ear up in order to reveal more of the source of his torture and my pleasure.  
  
I was startled by the presence of his hand on my wrist. He gripped me with a strength I could not have guessed at, eyes glazed and shining, lips parted with his heavy breathing.  
  
"Allow me this, Will."  
  
His voice was beautiful, even in the depths of whatever we were doing. He could have asked me anything and I would have agreed to it; I did leave the bandana in its place, running my fingers instead through his hair.  
  
He kissed me again, but did not release my hand. He drew it instead down underneath him. It was my turn to gasp in surprise as our hands found his goal.  
  
"Fingers first," he said. I nodded, granting his request. His breath began to rush past my ear in a harsh exhales. He wrapped his strong, slender legs firmly around my waist. I continued slowly, hesitant as I was and ignoring my own aching desire.  
  
"If ye're going to do it, do it now."  
  
His eyes were closed, his thick dark lashes pressed against his cheek damp with sweat, brows drawn together slightly in a frown. I followed his direction, putting myself inside him. I saw him wince, nearly imperceptibly.  
  
"Does it hurt?" I asked.  
  
"A bit." His eyes opened, and he gave me a small smile. I began to back out, but he lifted his hips. "Keep going," he urged softly.  
  
The expression of pain on his face soon faded. His arms were tight around my neck as our bodies rocked together. It was an unimaginably wonderful feeling I felt, for there was warmth and tightness and happiness all around me. Any thought not having to do with Seamus O'Riley rushed out of my head without a backward glance. I thought, at first, that I imagined his voice, but it was soon clear that he was saying something. What? I could not tell, for it was in some language that I did not know; he had said he was from France, perhaps it was French. Whatever it was, it was beautiful, even if I could not understand it. But neither of us was very loud, and it was not likely that the sounds we made were heard beyond the room.  
  
His legs pressed closer to my waist and his fingers gripped me harder, and I could tell we were near our end. I could not hold myself back any longer, and released myself far into him. He made a small cry, muffled by my shoulder, and spilled himself across our entwined bodies.  
  
Neither of us was willing to move; I just lay sprawled across his body, filled with a greater contentment than I had felt since I had discovered my love for the unattainable Elizabeth. He stretched out his arm, reaching for a cloth, and began to towel us off. I felt him kiss my forehead, and raised my head to look at him. He was positively resplendent, even more beautiful than I had first thought him.  
  
"Well?" he asked. I sighed in answer, kissing his collarbone. He laughed. "That good, eh? 'Course, ye 'aven't done it before."  
  
"Even if I had been more experienced," I said, "you would have been the best I'd ever had."  
  
"I'm flattered." His grin might have been lecherous if it hadn't been so exquisite. "Now, be a good lad and hand me that bottle o' whisky."  
  
I reluctantly rose from his side to get the whisky standing on the table. When I turned back, I was stopped in my tracks by the sight that awaited me. Seamus was spread over the bed, arms over his head, all long slender limbs and luminous golden skin. My knees wobbled, and I barely succeeded at returning to be bed without spilling whisky all over myself.  
  
"Stop staring," he said. "It's nothing ye 'aven't seen."  
  
"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on," I exclaimed softly.  
  
"Ye've laid a bit more than eyes on me, lad. Now be quiet and give me that whisky." He grabbed the bottle from me, sitting up to drink. I sat next to him, feeling suddenly shy.  
  
He sighed, somewhat impatiently. "Come on, lad." He drew me down until we were lying on our sides next to each other. "Ye should sleep, ye look tired."  
  
I pillowed my head in the corner of his neck and his shoulder, knowing this was where I belonged. I did feel sleep dragging at my eyes. "Did I do it right?" I asked.  
  
He shifted, putting his arms around my waist. "It isn't so much a situation of right or wrong," he said knowingly, "as one of good or bad."  
  
"So was I good or bad?"  
  
He laughed again. "Good, definitely good. No worries there, Will." He kissed my cheek. "Sleep," he whispered, "sleep."  
  
$$$$$  
  
Just a thought: can Seamus be a Mary-Sue if he's a guy? Just wondering. Isn't he sexy? And so mysterious. I'm sure you all have questions for him. I would be happy to answer them if you review. So please? It's only a few words, and it really makes my day. 


	2. Anchors aweigh!

Are you ready?  
  
Well, I had one reviewer. I guess that's okay. Please please please review! I know there are more of you out there reading this!  
  
This chapter doesn't have as much in the way of action (sex). This is also where the angst kicks in. I want to know what you think of it. Thank you, Scarlett, even if you're anonymous. At least somebody likes my slash. And let me tell you, I'm trying to make Seamus as little of a "Marty-Sue" (Hee, that's my own word! What else are you going to use for a male Mary-Sue?) as I possibly can. Questions, comments, concerns, please address the little review box.  
  
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I was awoken rudely the next morning.  
  
"Will! Will, get up, we must be off!" The sheets were torn off me, exposing me to cold air. I blinked as I opened my eyes. To my disappointment, the sight that greeted me was not that of Seamus, but Jack, pulling open the drapes to let in the grey light of dawn. As my mind cleared of the fog of sleep, I wondered, with a rush of both anger and fear, how he had known to find me in Seamus' room.  
  
"Come along, Will!" he said again, tossing my clothes at me.  
  
With that, and not even a "good morning, sorry to wake you at such an inhumane hour," he left the room. Still confused, I tugged my clothes on, following him down the stairs.  
  
"Wait, Jack!" I called to him.  
  
"Well, we're not to be goin' quite yet," he shouted back to me, "but we might be wantin' a bite before we're off, eh?" He propped himself on a bench near a table, motioning for food to be brought. "And some rum, too, if ye 'ave any!" he yelled after the barkeep's retreating back. "Had a good night, Will?"  
  
But Jack's smile certainly was lecherous. "How did you know where to find me?" I asked anxiously.  
  
"Ye 'ave to be jokin', mate. I saw the way you was lookin' at Seamus last night. I'd wager there aren't too many nights that man spends alone."  
  
I blushed, furious that I had been so easily read.  
  
"But ye did 'ave a good time, didn't ye?"  
  
"What's it to you?" I asked, feeling miserable.  
  
"Just curious, mate." He smiled again, nodding thanks to the man who brought our food. Leaning close to me, he said, "Who d'ye think taught 'im all 'e knows, eh?"  
  
I just stared back, incredulous. It was unimaginable; Seamus allowed this filthy excuse for a human being to touch him, let alone . . . Feeling somewhat numb, I asked, "How did you meet him?"  
  
"Well," he began, waving a joint of chicken around, "the short story is, I screwed 'is sister."  
  
"What?" The tale just kept getting more unbelievable.  
  
"Tha's the way it was, mate, plain and simple. Ooh, she was good." He smiled slyly at the memory. I began to feel a bit sick, and refused the food in front of me.  
  
"Where is he now?" I wondered.  
  
" 'E and Gibbs went off to find us our supplies and crew. They're meetin' us at the dock. Eat up, lad, this'll be yer last meal on solid ground for quite some time."  
  
I followed his direction. I must have still looked sullen, for Jack began to speak again.  
  
"Yep, it may be I'm the person who knows the most about Seamus O'Riley, exceptin' per'aps yerself. So it was, ten years ago or so, 'is sister an' I became quite close, ye might say." Another smile, glinting with his gold teeth. "Well, Seamus didn't like that too much. Threatened to kill me, 'e did. But 'e's a kind man, that Seamus. 'E spared me, much to 'is benefit. Not many places we 'aven't sailed together."  
  
Jack continued to speak, with much gesturing with chicken wings and jingling of beads, but I had ceased to listen. I heard a noise from upstairs, a sort of banging and crashing.  
  
"Do you hear that?" I asked Jack.  
  
He became silent and still, and his eyes grew wide. "Now might be a good time to run, mate," he said, grabbing his hat and dashing away from the inn. I watched as the woman Jack had been entertaining the night before thunder down the stairs, her hair and clothing in disarray and a look of intense hatred on her face.  
  
"Jack Sparrow, you come back here!" she screeched. I decided to take Jack's advice and exited the inn. I rushed after the mangy pirate along the cobbles of the streets, making our way towards the docks.  
  
"Now that," Jack said, leaning doubled-up against a post, "is the face of pure evil."  
  
"I can see why you were afraid," I replied, trying to catch my breath.  
  
"Afraid? Pah," he said, straightening himself up. "I've never been afraid of anythin' in my life. I didn't want tuh pay 'er."  
  
I shook my head; he was hopeless.  
  
"Hey, Jack!" called a voice from down the dock. Gibbs came striding towards us. " 'Mornin', Will. Jack," he said, turning back to the pirate, who was still trying to arrange himself after our dash from the inn, "Jack, I found us a crew."  
  
"Eh?" Jack answered. "Let's see the villainous dogs."  
  
I followed Jack and Gibbs as they inspected the worthless arrangement of characters before us. A few looked senile, one had no tongue, another was a midget, and they all looked like they were infected with the pox.  
  
Except, perhaps, for the one on the end. A large hat hid his head, but by the wisps of white hair I saw, I guessed him for another of the more elderly type. Jack frowned as he inspected at the sailor before him.  
  
"Do I know ye, mate?" he asked.  
  
"Per'aps," the figure said. He tipped back his head so he could look Jack in the eye. "But I know you, Jack Sparrow."  
  
I had been wrong in my original estimation; this sailor was neither male nor senile. It was a young woman, black-eyed and dusky-skinned, with a shock of white hair falling down her back in braids. She stared back at Jack with a clever gaze.  
  
He smiled hesitantly, as if he expected this one to slap him as well. "Maggie," he said.  
  
"Don't ye 'Maggie' me, ye bloody pirate," she spat back. "Where 'ave ye been for these two years? And don't give me the Singapore story again, Jack."  
  
"You know her, Jack?" I asked, concealing my smile at having Jack berated by such a character.  
  
"Aye," he answered. "Maggie, love, I've been busy."  
  
"Sure, Jack, sure. But don't worry, Jack Sparrow, I'll keep a close eye on ye this time." She seemed to notice me for the first time. "Who's this?"  
  
"Maggie, Will, Will, Maggie. Ye all savvy? Everyone aboard!" Jack seemed anxious to leave.  
  
"Not without me!" I recognized that voice, and turned to see Seamus O'Riley approaching us. He rode a horse with a wagon yoked to it, apparently bringing us our provisions. He beamed, and I fell in love with him again.  
  
"Seamus!"  
  
To my surprise, it was Maggie who called out, embracing him as he leapt down from the horse. It seemed far too intimate a hug for two people who are supposedly just crewmates. It felt like my heart sunk to my knees, and I concentrated on loading the cargo into the Interceptor as I was ordered.  
  
"Anchors aweigh!" came the call. The crew, myself included, went to work, trimming sails and hoisting the anchor. But soon we were on our way, the wind refreshing in my face and the horizon calling to me once again.  
  
Not having work to occupy them for the present, the crew lounged around on deck. Maggie went up to sit near Jack, who stood at the helm. Seamus climbed up on the rigging, a look of pure delight on his face as we rushed away from Tortuga. He was fearless where he sat high on his insubstantial seat, the strong wind whipping his clothing and hair about him. He was the picture of elegance, and yet somehow wild and untamable. I loved the way his strong arms grasped the ropes.  
  
"Ye would be Will?"  
  
I turned around to find I was staring Maggie in the face. I wondered to myself what sort of woman would choose to set sail with these pitiful excuses for people. She seemed pretty enough, even noble looking. Her long white hair, startling as it was in its absolute colorlessness, was bound away from her eyes in three braids. Back in England, we might have called her eyes witching eyes; they were opaque, and shining black like obsidian from where they glared curiously from beneath her black brows. Her skin was tanned from lifelong exposure to sun, but the structure of the bones in her face and body was reminiscent of the fair Elizabeth. However, she chose to cover herself in a man's shirt and breeches and boots, complete with an impressive set of knives around her waist.  
  
"Yes, I'm Will. And you would be Maggie?" I inquired.  
  
"That's me, Salty Maggie, and they call me the Diamond of the Western Seas. But ye can jus' call me Maggie." She gave me a kind smile that reminded me somewhat of Seamus. "What brings ye out here with us scalawags, young Will?"  
  
I hesitated. I had not thought of Elizabeth since the night before; I figured she need never know what I had done, and it would matter little once she married the Commodore. I re-classed her as a good friend. "My friend, Elizabeth Swann, is in grave danger."  
  
"What sort of grave danger?"  
  
"She was captured by the pirates of the Black Pearl."  
  
Maggie whistled through her teeth. "That's mighty brave of ye, tuh be goin' after yer lady friend like that."  
  
"She's not my lady friend," I protested. "She's, well, she's a lady who happens to be a friend. But nothing more than that!"  
  
" 'Course, Will, 'course." She smiled again.  
  
"I can't believe Jack is crazy enough to bring this crazy woman aboard," I muttered to myself, unsure of her sanity.  
  
"Crazy though Jack Sparrow is, I am not one of his hare-brained ideas." She tossed her head indignantly as she sat on the railing next to me.  
  
"She don't need to be crazy!" shouted Gibbs, upon hearing our conversation. "It's terrible bad luck to sail even the wenches who're right in the head!"  
  
"She's practically a man anyway, Gibbs," called Seamus from above us. "No need fer us to be worryin' about bad luck with this 'un."  
  
"Ooh, you be quiet!" she retorted. "Superstitious lot they are," she said to me as Seamus laughed. "But I'm a woman who can hold 'er own. Any one of 'em comes too close and I'll wallop 'em! You hear that, Seamus?" There was more beautiful laughter.  
  
"You know him?" I asked, curious.  
  
"Sure, I know 'im," she answered. "Sometimes I wish I didn't, but ye can't always choose who ye're sailin' with."  
  
"Are you his lady?" I asked carefully.  
  
She gave me a long, dark look that reminded me once again of Seamus before bursting into laughter herself. "Ah, ye're serious! Nah, me an' Seamus isn't hooked up. Wouldn't ever want tuh be."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Well, see -"  
  
"Maggie! Come 'ere a minute!" Jack yelled. Maggie gave me one last wink before joining Jack at the helm. Jack, in turn, replaced Maggie at my side.  
  
"How're ye doin', boy?" he asked, in his usual drawl. "I see ye've found yer sea legs, eh?"  
  
"Yes," I answered. I found the motion of the ship soothing, even, rather than nauseating. 'Must be the pirate blood,' I thought to myself.  
  
"Bloody crazy, ain't she?" Jack said, gesturing to Maggie.  
  
"I think so."  
  
"There weren't no 'elpin' it, there. Maggie's one o' the best navigators this side of India. 'Course, in lookin' for Isla de Muerta, navigaterin' won't do us much good, eh?"  
  
"I suppose not," I said absently. I was not so interested in Maggie at that point. Seamus had climbed up to the crow's nest, and I had been watching him move, and only half-listening to Jack.  
  
"An' we'll be off tuh rescue yer ladylove . . ." I could feel Jack's eyes on me, studying me. " 'Less'n ye'd rather forget her an' set yer sights on someone else."  
  
"No," I said, shaking myself away from Seamus. "No, we have to save Elizabeth. I owe that much to her."  
  
"Right, lad, right. Jus' remember t'explain that to 'er, eh? Won't do ye any good with leavin' a cryin' lass behind ye." He patted my shoulder, then went back up to the helm. I sighed, but before I could begin daydreaming again, Gibbs strode up to give me an order.  
  
"Jus' tug a bit on this, Will," he said, handing me a rope. "Can't have no slack in the mainsail, eh?"  
  
~  
  
Any lingering dreams of the romance of being a pirate were dashed away by the dinner we were served. The crew set to with lusty appetites, but I eyed the dried meat and mealy biscuit with distaste. No wonder Jack drank so much; it was probably to wash away the terrible taste of the pirate fare.  
  
"Don't tell me ye're not hungry, Mr. Turner," my benchmate Mr. Smith, the midget, exclaimed in surprise.  
  
"It's not what I'm used to," I answered.  
  
"Well, ye'll get used to it soon enough, or starve on this ship, Mr. Turner." Even Maggie was attacking the food hungrily. She waved a bit of biscuit at me. "This 'ere is right good, compared tuh what ye'd get on other boats. Seamus done a good job 'ere."  
  
"Speak o' the devil," Mr. Smith said. I followed his gaze to where Seamus sat across the galley. He held in his hands a small wooden flute. "Looks like Mr. O'Riley's gonna give us a tune."  
  
" 'Scuse me, gents," Maggie said, standing up. She sent a wink to someone behind us, and I glanced up to see Jack standing in the doorway, come in from setting the ship to rights before most of us went to sleep. His eyes were on Maggie, and I saw that too-familiar calculating glint in them.  
  
I turned to watch as said female pirate rose from speaking with Seamus. Much as I liked Maggie, I still could not believe her intentions towards Seamus were entirely of one crewmate to another; while Seamus and I had made not commitment, or even spoken of re-enacting the previous night's adventures, I felt protective of him.  
  
But the song was beautiful, and drove all thoughts from my head. Even the most raucous of the crew settled down a bit to listen. It started out slow, with only Maggie's voice, then later the flute. It didn't matter what language she spoke. It sounded like a lullaby.  
  
Then, as the song progressed, it became faster and livelier. It seemed to tell a tale, though what the story would be I could not say. Seamus' long fingers fair danced over the holes in the flute. The crew was stamping and clapping to keep the rhythm. It ended abruptly, and would have been strange if it had not been so beautiful. There was roaring applause as Seamus and Maggie stood and bowed. Never say that pirates do not have an appreciation for beautiful things.  
  
"We're lucky tuh 'ave 'em both on board, eh?" Smith commented as he clapped his small hands. " 'S'not ev'ry day the likes of us gets tuh hear such pretty music."  
  
"It is pleasant, isn't it?" I mused. Even, or should I say especially, in the dim light of the galley, Seamus' skin glowed with unsurpassed beauty.  
  
"Why they aren't payin' ye money back in jolly England tuh do that I'll never fathom," Jack said as he swaggered towards our entertainers. "Maggie, love, ye croon like a songbird. Why, ye're a fine instrument jus' beggin' tuh be played." As he said this, he wrapped his arms possessively around her waist and tried to kiss her. To our surprise and amusement, Maggie promptly socked him in the stomach before his lips could reach their goal.  
  
"That's for leavin' me alone fer all that time, Jack," she said with a satisfied smile. "Try it again an' it won't be yer stomach I'm punchin.' " With a few whoops from the rest of the crew, she stepped gracefully out of the galley.  
  
"Bloody 'ell," Jack gasped as he collapsed on the bench next to Seamus. He held his belly carefully. "Bloody bitch drove the bloody breath right out 'o me bloody lungs!"  
  
Seamus made no answer; he was doubled over and shaking in silent laughter.  
  
"Go ahead an' laugh, ye bloody ingrate," Jack spat, giving Seamus a feeble punch in the arm. "Ye an' yer sister, ye're both bloody 'ell spawn, that's what y'are."  
  
Sister?  
  
The word resounded in my head. So that explained it all! I could hardly believe I had gotten so worried over such a small thing. Seamus and Maggie were siblings!  
  
I stirred myself from my reverie only to notice that the galley was nearly empty. Seamus, Jack, a few other sailors, and myself were the only crew left. After patting Jack pityingly on the shoulder, Seamus walked over to me.  
  
"Too much to drink, lad?" he asked me kindly. I tried to shake my head, but the action made the room spin.  
  
"Perhaps," I said with a hiccup.  
  
"Come on, let's get some shuteye, eh?" He lifted me from under my arms and balanced me on my feet. It felt like my legs were made of water, and I had trouble focusing my eyes. I leaned against him, mostly because he was more solid than anything else I could see. We wove our way across the deck until we came to a door. Seamus opened it, and the bright candlelight hurt my eyes.  
  
"Any room for us?" he called out.  
  
"We's all filled up, Seamus," Maggie said from her hammock near the doorway. "Ye'll be occupyin' the spare cargo room, I guess."  
  
" 'Less we be gentlemen, an' let the lady have the room." He smirked at her.  
  
"Jus' fer that, I'm gonna make ye take the extra room," she retorted with a glare. "There in't enough space fer two, anyways."  
  
So once more we sought our beds. At that point, I didn't much care where I put my head, just so long as I didn't have to raise it again for a very long while. Even the thought of sharing a chamber once again with Seamus didn't rouse me. Well, I thought as I breathed Seamus' scent, then again . . .  
  
Seamus propped me against a wall while he began to make our beds. The previous owners of the ship had been kind enough to leave us blankets and candles, and soon the cargo room was quite homey.  
  
However, it soon became apparent to me that Seamus was not going to help me down. I wobbled over by myself to the arranged pallet. I began to tug my shirt off when I remembered the fresh blisters on my hands; they stung painfully whenever I moved my fingers.  
  
"Let me take a look at those." Seamus was regarding me thoughtfully. I obeyed, letting him examine my hands. "Ah, these'll heal up in no time, Will. But they must smart right good, aye? I've somethin' for that, I'll be right back."  
  
I watched as he rose and began to fumble in his pack. Even on a ship, every move he made was as graceful as a dance. Compared to him, I felt like a clodhopping oaf. Then my burning palms distracted me. Damn, I hadn't had blisters like this since I began my apprenticeship as a blacksmith. I felt myself tilt to the side, eager to fall asleep.  
  
"Whoa there, Will," Seamus said, pulling me upright. "Can't sleep if y'expect me tuh 'elp ye out, mate."  
  
"Why not?" I asked, the alcohol making the words slur and stumble.  
  
"I'll not cater tuh ye while ye're asleep!" He smiled again, then took my hands in his. He rubbed some sort of pungent salve into my wounds, and it did feel much better. It was as though cool water had just washed away their memory. It cleared up my head a bit as well, and I studied Seamus as he applied my bandages.  
  
His legs were crossed beneath him, and he was bent intently over my hand where it rested on his thigh. His sun-darkened neck was exposed, and I could see his smooth muscles move from beneath his shirt. Finishing with one hand, he moved to the other. I watched as one long, brown finger reached up to tuck an errant curl back into place, only to have it spring back. I brushed it back for him, reveling in the softness of his hair.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me she was your sister?"  
  
I hadn't realized I had spoken until the words were out of my mouth.  
  
"The subject never came up," he answered without lifting his head from his work. "Were ye worried?"  
  
"Never." I put more feeling into that word than I intended. "Is she the one Jack was talking about?"  
  
"The very same." He raised his head, then, and returned my hand to me. "There y'are, good as new. Ye're lookin' a little better. How's 'bout some sleep?" He stretched out on a blanket and pulled another one over his shoulders. He was on his side, facing away from me.  
  
"Was the rest of what Jack told me true?" I remained sitting. The candle was still lit, and the room was crystal clear, not fuzzy as it had been.  
  
"It was a long time ago, Will. Things change. We were different people back then. I'll not explain meself to ye, lad."  
  
"You don't need to," I said as I kissed his cheek. "I think I'm ready to sleep now."  
  
"Good. Then blow that bloody candle out so's I can sleep too."  
  
I did as he said, snuggling close and tossing and arm over him. He did not shirk away.  
  
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I am just itching to know what you guys think of this! I'll reiterate for those who are completely lost: this story will make much more sense if you read (and review on) Jack Sparrow's Story. Isn't Seamus a sweetie? I love him. Gosh, I'd marry him if he weren't so gay. Just press the little purple button. A few words, that's all I ask. 


	3. The Problems with Communication

Woo-hoo! I have reviewers! Ha, I thought nobody would like this story. (*throws confetti and Seamus kisses to reviewers)  
  
You know the routine. Seamus is mine, all mine. So is Maggie, though I can't keep her tied to my bed (she's a wild one, she is, and I'm not a lesbian). The little story is also mine. I think my plotbunny is an emotionally impaired gay little bunny.  
  
Anyways. I like to write in first person (if you haven't noticed). The first part of this chapter will be written in Seamus' POV, the second part in Will's POV. Angst is getting' heavy here, folks.  
  
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Seamus POV  
  
I did not sleep right away that night. The light of the moon through the porthole was enough to let me pick out the features of my roommate.  
  
He looked even more innocent in sleep than he did while awake, and I wondered again to myself how he would make it in the wide world. This was not a man who had lived a fugitive's life, who had had to murder to save himself, who had to scrounge and scrape for food. He had never been required to be a pirate. He would have quite a bit of growing up to do before this venture was through if he were going to survive.  
  
I cursed myself for letting me fall into this trap again. He slept so soundly; he would probably not hear if there were someone sneaking up behind him with a dagger to stick in his back. He was brave, yes, but foolish for taking this course of action. Then again, I unfortunately knew what it was like to be in love. He did love the girl, I was fairly sure of that. I only hoped it was true what he said, that it was impossible for him to marry her, that she didn't love him.  
  
How did I find myself in the middle once more?  
  
~  
  
As was my habit, I slept a few hours and awoke before dawn. My bedmate was still fast asleep, so I rose to see what was happening out on deck. To my surprise, before I could get to my feet there was a hand on my arm, stopping me from movement. Perhaps young Will Turner was not as asleep as I had guessed him to be.  
  
"Where are you going?" he asked blearily.  
  
"Out," I answered shortly.  
  
"I'm coming too, then," he yawned as he dragged himself to his elbows.  
  
"Ye're hardly awake, mate. Stay in another few hours. We're not even needed yet." I tried to rise again, but he had a good grip on my arm.  
  
"Stay with me," he pleaded. "I don't want to be alone." He was sitting by that point, looking me straight in the eyes. He wasn't so subtle, this one. He had longing written all over his face. I was starting to think that perhaps it had been a mistake to do all that I had done with him.  
  
"Ye're grown, ye don't need me to rock you to sleep," I said, attempting to push off his hand.  
  
Instead, he tugged me down until our lips met. He could kiss well, for someone so inexperienced. Naïve, direct, insistent, and quite ready to try his luck at making love again, as I discovered when feeling his desire poking me in the stomach. Well, it was true; we would not be needed for another few hours. Submission to his wishes seemed so easy.  
  
We parted for breath. His fingers were furiously working at the ties to my shirt.  
  
"How d'yer hands feel today, Mr. Turner?" I asked. Obviously much better, I thought to myself.  
  
"What do you think?" he asked back, kissing me again.  
  
"If ye want, I can replace the dressings . . ." I suggested, looking to frustrate him. He was amusing when he was frustrated.  
  
"No, thank you," he replied, refusing to be baited. "I want there to be as little cloth between us as possible."  
  
"Then we've a common sentiment." He lifted my shirt over my head and pounced on me again. "An' I thought ye were asleep."  
  
So my pupil began his second lesson in the art of lovemaking. For it is an art. I had spoken true; there is good art, and there is bad art. Good art you hang about and admire and stare at for years. With bad art you become bored with quickly and discard promptly. Had I a mind for innuendo, I might describe teaching my young pupil how to manipulate his paintbrush and paint. Fortunately, I do not. I will not delve that deep into our bedroom lives.  
  
He lay next to me when we were finished. He took my hand in his, examining it. He had a blacksmith's hands, rough and callused but for where I had bound his blisters the night before. I closed my eyes, for I felt more tired than I had before I had waked.  
  
Will POV  
  
I liked to study his hands. They were rough in some spots, smooth in others, and the same sun-bronzed color as the rest of his skin. He closed his eyes, and I continued my exploration. Long slender fingers, with strong bones lying beneath the skin. There was a small freckle on the back, near his thumb. I ran my fingers over his knuckles and the loose skin there. I kissed these hands, these precious hands, for the kindness they had shown me.  
  
"Why are you a pirate?"  
  
I had hardly realized I had spoken, and the question sounded incredibly naïve once I heard it. He opened his eyes again.  
  
"This is my freedom," he said simply. "My blood is drawn to the sea. Here, I am free to be my own man, no one else's. A man builds himself. The poorest man from the direst of situations, aye, even a blacksmith, could work himself up to be captain if 'e plays 'is cards right."  
  
"How old are you?" I asked, curious. Gibbs had said he was older than he looked, but I could not tell.  
  
He looked seriously at me. "How old are you, boy?"  
  
"Nearly nineteen," I said. Practically a man. "Now you, Seamus."  
  
"What would you say if I told you I couldn't remember?" He saw my puzzled look. "Stopped countin' the years a long time ago."  
  
"Ah," I answered, unsure of what I was supposed to say. I paused before my next question. "What were your situations?"  
  
"Me?" He looked startled, as though he hadn't expected me to ask the question. He smiled indulgently at me. "I'm displaced. I don't seem really to belong much of anywhere. I started somewhere in France, and ended up in India, China, Ireland, and even Africa. I spent some time in the Americas, then came to these islands. Money is never much of an issue; ships are always in need of strong hands and steady legs. Most of these men are here to gain a little money for whatever family they might've left behind."  
  
"Did you leave any family behind?"  
  
He looked away, as though he was reluctant to remember. "Yes."  
  
"A lady?" I asked cautiously.  
  
"My wife," he said, as though he were just coming to the realization. His breath caught on a stifled sob. "Dead."  
  
He sat up and pulled away from me, wiping frantically at his eyes with his hands. This was the first time I had ever seen him in anything less than complete control and discipline, even while we had made love.  
  
"Seamus, I -" I started, wanting to apologize.  
  
"No, no," he protested. His voice sounded hoarse, less than its usual beauty. "I - I need to go on deck."  
  
Dressing quickly, he opened the doors to the newborn dawn and slipped out. I put my face in my hands.  
  
"How have I managed to make a mess of things again?" I asked myself softly.  
  
~ (still Will POV)  
  
I came out on deck in time to see the sun rise, but it gave me no joy. I had distanced Seamus and myself, and it felt as though I had a hole in my heart. Focused completely on my self-pity, I hardly noticed when Maggie stood in front of me.  
  
"What did ye do to him?" she asked. It was the sort of question that should have been angry, but I could not read her eyes.  
  
"Nothing, I -" I began, trying to explain myself.  
  
"Look," she said as she pointed up at the sails. I nearly fell over at what I saw. Seamus was dangling by his knees from the rigging, mending a sail in midair. He must have been at least twenty feet from the deck. It was a task that was should have been impossible. Apparently done with his chore, he slipped the thread and needles back into a pocket and loosed his knees from the rope.  
  
He fell towards the deck.  
  
Maggie's hand stopped me from rushing forward, and I saw why. In midair, he twisted, as a cat will. Even if he does land on all fours, I thought, there's no way he could survive the impact. Still, his sister's hand prohibited me from moving.  
  
He landed with a soft thud in a crouching position. He stood as if what he had just done was perfectly normal, brushed his hands off, and continued on his way. I could only see the way his mouth was set against any traitorous emotion. Fortunately, only Maggie, Cotton (who had no tongue), and I were on deck at that point, and Cotton was gazing dully into space.  
  
"He never does that where others can see," Maggie said sadly. "He must certainly be troubled."  
  
"Somehow, we started talking about family," I admitted faintly. "He mentioned a - a, um, wife."  
  
"I see," Maggie replied, nodding. She was still sad. "Aye, wife. Best friend, wife, lover, assistant. He loved her with all his soul. It was only death what did them part. We only barely stopped him from following her." She sighed, not looking me in the eye. " 'Tis a sad thing to see a dear friend an' yer brother's wife gone all at once like that. He doesn't like to talk about her."  
  
"Oh." I had begun to fear, by this point, that I had made some sort of unforgivable mistake, that I would never have Seamus back to me.  
  
"Don't give up on 'im, though," she continued. "He likes you, I can tell. You help him forget, an' that's what he needs. He's stupid and stubborn, to keep carrying on like this for so long."  
  
"How long ago was her death?" I asked.  
  
"Nigh on ten years. Right before we came to the Carib." Jack came out on deck, twirling his mustache. "Remember what I told ye," Maggie ended, before swaggering over to Jack. Our disheveled captain had just immerged from his cabin.  
  
"Look at that, lads," Jack commented, pointing at the sky. "Red clouds. Ye know what that means." He turned to Seamus. "Looks like yer mendin' might be tuh no use, O'Riley."  
  
Seamus offered back a grim smile.  
  
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What's up with Seamus? Have guesses, suggestions, vents, anything to say, just press that little review button. I like to talk to my reviewers, so here we go.  
  
Kasis Sparrow: I'm glad you're glad to see another guy with Will. I was getting tired of all the J/W romances (even though the movie completely supported the idea). But yeah! And Seamus is mine. I would clone him for you, but I don't have the technology. Will might let you borrow him if you ask really nice.  
  
Fearless Kitty: What do you think of this chapter? Manipulating his paintbrush . that's some pretty good innuendo, if you ask me. Dang, I have a dirty mind. Beats me why a male OC is such a revolutionary idea. Tell me how you like this.  
  
Scarlett: I'm glad you're still putting up with me. Go figure. "You've screwed my sister, so now I must have sex with you." Of course, that's not the way it really goes. Read Jack Sparrow's story. It'll make a lot more sense then. 


	4. The Calm After the Storm

This is my favorite chapter! Thanks, Moro; you are still my only reviewer. I think that if you steal Seamus, Will will run you through. Gotta be careful there. Yeah. Why do my readers not review? I know somebody other than Moro is reading this!  
  
So yeah. This is my favorite chapter. I had so much fun writing it. You guys will have so much fun reading it. I think the angst reasserts itself, so beware.  
  
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At first I believed that Jack would be wrong. The rest of the day proceeded in fair-weathered calm. I began to truly learn my way about the ship, doing as I was ordered to do. There was something relaxing to just be able to follow orders, not to worry about what the future might hold or what the past had left behind. I began to see what Seamus meant about freedom.  
  
Late in the afternoon, the sky abruptly turned dark. Angry black clouds gathered overhead, mumbling to themselves with their deep, wrathful voices. Lightening began to appear, beautiful but dangerous at the same time.  
  
"Jack," I asked our captain, "are you sure it is wise to take this course?"  
  
"Sure, mate," he answered, topping off the statement with a swig of rum. "We're gainin' on 'em, an' it takes more than a little storm to stop Captain Jack Sparrow!"  
  
I swallowed and shook my head. Poor Elizabeth, she must be so scared! I only hoped I would reach her in time, before I was drowned and struck by lightening and filled to bursting with Jack's crazy speech.  
  
Seamus stood next to Maggie. There was a quiet, companionable silence around them. For once, I wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. The closest things to brothers I had known were the older boys who had been apprenticed to John Brown, the blacksmith. They had all left, eventually, finding work of their own. How would they laugh now, to see me on a boat full of pirates.  
  
Thunder cracked overhead, and I felt the first drops of rain hit my face. The wind had picked up, though I could tell it would quickly become much worse.  
  
Too soon, I was fast at work securing rigging, compensating for our newfound weather problems. I had no time to muse about anything apart from the task at hand. The rain had become drenching, the wind a whirling, rushing, tugging force that threatened to pull me overboard. We must have caught one of the last hurricanes of the season.  
  
I heard a cry from behind me. Maggie had lost her footing on the slick deck and was tottering towards the rail. I grabbed for her, thankfully receiving a handful of shirt.  
  
"Hold on!" I shouted, hoping she could hear me over the wind. What a blessing that she was so light. Using my arm as leverage, she found her feet again.  
  
"Thanks, Will," she said. Or at least, that's what I thought she said. The wind swept her words away. Back to work we went, no time to become sentimental.  
  
The storm seemed to rage on forever. I did what I had to do mindlessly, ignoring my sopping state and the ache in my joints. Finally, the wind seemed to die down, and the rain seemed to become a little less relentless.  
  
"Well, we're out of the worst of it, mates," Jack proclaimed from his station at the helm. I was surprised; even his voice sounded tired. "Go on to sleep, men. Ye've earned it."  
  
Too exhausted to consider what a kindness Jack was showing us, I followed his directions and went to the cabin I had occupied the night before. My feet were leaden and my eyes were drooping. I pulled off my boots. They were stiff with water.  
  
The door swung open, and there stood Seamus. His hair fell down his shoulders like dripping rat-tails. His clothing was plastered to his skin and, tired though I was, I enjoyed the view immensely. However, I still remembered our conversation that morning. Was it only that morning? It felt like it had been weeks. He hadn't spoken to me since then.  
  
"Are you angry with me?" I asked. My voice sounded hoarse and unnatural.  
  
"No," he said softly. "No."  
  
Still I remained silent, hesitating to let the thread of hope enter my heart.  
  
"We'd best get out o' these wet clothes, mate," he said, voice almost too quiet to hear. "Ye can catch yer death in clothes wet like this."  
  
"Can you ever forgive me, Seamus?" I exclaimed. I rose to take his arms in my hands. "I never meant to cause you pain. God, if I ever do that again, I -"  
  
He held a finger to my lips. How did he always manage to look so calm? I felt like a little boy, caught doing something he shouldn't by a kind teacher. I was more in danger of drowning in his eyes than I had been on deck at the worst of the storm. He removed his finger, placing his warm cheek on mine.  
  
"I should be apologizing to you, Will," he whispered into my ear. Oh, the voice I had fallen in love with! It had not changed. "I am a stubborn fool. I cling to my terrible memories as a child clutches a blanket at night. Nothing you did, nothing you did."  
  
Can you die if you love someone too much? I would have died ten times over at that moment.  
  
"So am I forgiven?" Seamus asked, cheek still pressed to mine. "For being such an idiot?"  
  
"You don't even need to ask," I answered, turning my head to kiss him. He sighed and seemed to relax in my arms. He felt small and warm and perfect, but we were both wearing our soaking clothes.  
  
We remedied that easily enough. Seamus had me sit, wrapped in a blanket, while he hung our clothes to dry. The night was still as though the storm had never existed, and starlight invaded the room like a pirate.  
  
"Thank you for saving Maggie," Seamus said once he was seated next to me, beneath the blanket we shared. His head was resting on my shoulder and his now-dry black curls fell over my arm. "I don't know what to do with her sometimes."  
  
"Your accent's gone away," I noted quietly.  
  
"So it has. It does that from time to time. You should think of becoming a professional pirate, mate. You'd be a big help to any captain out in a storm. You learn quickly, Will, and that will save you."  
  
There was too much bare skin not being touched, and I could stand it no longer. I rolled over Seamus until he was sandwiched between the blankets and me. Ah, this was what I had been yearning for all day. His mouth opened too willingly to be ignored. I could not remember life before my fingers found the muscles in his stomach, the muscles in his arms, the smooth skin around his neck.  
  
"We're lucky I like you, Will Turner," he gasped throatily, "or we'd be in quite a fix."  
  
I could hardly arrange coherent thought, so I just nodded. I was supposed to be the one doing the seducing, but it was he who was unraveling me. His hands made their fine work, even from his position beneath me. Something more powerful than lust was at work, and my release that night was better than any I had experienced before.  
  
We lay together afterwards. I listened to his breathing as it slowly returned to normal. His eyes glowed, and I loved them. His lips parted for breath, and I loved them. His hand caressed my face, and I loved it more than anything I had ever felt before. I had him tight around the waist, so our hips were still pressed together. Somehow, I felt our actions were not quite done for the night.  
  
"She would have loved you," Seamus whispered. His hand was still at my cheek, loving and tender strokes.  
  
"Your wife?"  
  
He nodded. "I would have gone to the ends of the earth for her. Now I'm glad I didn't."  
  
"She would have wanted you to move on," I said in attempt to comfort.  
  
He grinned. "This coming from the one who lies in my arms and shares my bed." He sighed, but it was not a sad sigh. "You're right, Will. She would have wanted me to be happy."  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"Yes," he said, nuzzling my neck. "Infinitely."  
  
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Aww, sweetness! I love Seamus with all my heart, and I know y'all do, too. I dunno. The way I'm writing Will makes him seem like sort of an idiot. I'm sorry for all you diehard Will fans out there. Maybe I'll make him smart in upcoming chapters.  
  
Gosh, wouldn't it be a terrible twist if Seamus' wife were still alive? I don't think I could handle the torment! He's mine, I tell you, all mine! But I guess Moro can borrow him. Not for writing, of course. Only for the sorta stuff they don't let you publish on ff.net. 


	5. A Sister's Story

Waaah! Why is nobody reviewing? Are people reading this story and just not saying anything? (pointed glare) You all had better stop that. I do it too. It's a very bad habit and I'm trying to break it by reviewing everything I read, but you know. it's just very discouraging to receive no feedback. Do you guys like it, not like it? Comments, questions, concerns, wishes for cloning Seamus, I would entertain all forms of communication to me PROVIDING YOU GIVE ME FEEDBACK!!!!  
  
I should stop. Now I feel really bad. I've been going on about Moro, haven't I? Well, it turns out she's the only one who's really been reviewing the other story I'm writing. She has no right to Seamus. Only you loyal people can have him. So Scarlett, Kasis, I'm sorry, you can have Seamus to play with (if he lets you).  
  
If you still need a disclaimer or a warning, you must be comatose.  
  
You know how I write. This chapter is going to be a little more like "Jack Sparrow's Story," in that it's Maggie's POV. So now we get to hear things from a girl's point of view. Let me know how you like it! We'll be going back to Will pretty quick, okay?  
  
I'm just feeling really hyper. So even though nobody's reviewed for a REALLY LONG TIME, I'm going to update. Why am I hyper? Try a 92% on a really crap calculus test! Woo hoo!  
  
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I could not go back to the crew's quarters just yet. Jack stood, stubborn as a mule, at the helm. I wondered if I could convince him to come down. He would kill himself if he refused sleep.  
  
"Jack," I called as I approached. "Jack, love," I said, softer. I wrapped my arms around him. "You need sleep, you mad pirate."  
  
"There needs to be somebody to -"  
  
I wouldn't let him finish; silenced him with a kiss. I could feel him surrendering, though I had to peel his hands off the helm.  
  
"Maggie, love, was there ever a man what said no to you?"  
  
"Never," I answered. "That should be obvious." I set a block on the helm so we could keep to course.  
  
"Seems your brother's found a new friend," Jack commented, glancing over my shoulder. I turned just soon enough to see Seamus and Will disappear into their room.  
  
"Yes," I said, laying my head against his chest. "Jealous?"  
  
"What, me? Captain Jack Sparrow, jealous? Never!" I laughed, because that was the way he was. I felt him shaking in my arms, and hurried him to his cabin. I started to take his clothing off, setting it on the edge of the bed to dry.  
  
Jack had changed since I first had met him. The hair had become wilder, a downright birds' nest festooned with ornaments and that horrible bandana. He had taken to smearing his eyes with kohl, a process I better associated with the women of Tortuga. Jack made the look alluring and wild, suitable for a pirate. Random scarves wrapped wherever on his body. A dirty, tattered coat faded to an indistinguishable gray. Pants in the same condition. Good gracious, Jack Sparrow, what would you do without me?  
  
He was older as well. He had a few more faint lines around his eyes and mouth, and his skin looked a bit thinner. These details would only be noticeable by one who has known him as I had, for he exuded youth like a rare perfume. I think he had decided not to grow old.  
  
In the end, he was a drenched and naked man, utterly exhausted by the day's work. I tucked the sheets in around him, then settled myself next to him in the bed. My clothes had come off as well and they were drying next to Jack's.  
  
"Somehow, I'd gotten the impression we wouldn't be sharing a bed together this time around, Maggie," Jack said, wiggling his eyebrows. "Maybe it's me, but threats don't seem to say 'I love you' very well."  
  
"Never take me seriously like that, Jack," I replied. "I'll forgive you, for leaving me alone all that time."  
  
"You had better," he said, kissing me forcefully. His hands stole beneath the sheets to my breasts.  
  
"You're too tired, Jack. Not tonight."  
  
"I'll decide when I'm tired, love."  
  
I didn't want to resist him. We made love gently, slowly, for despite what Jack said, he was tired. It had been a long time for me; two years, it had been, since I had seen him last. If I knew anything about Jack Sparrow, I knew he had not been celibate during our separation. For some women that would have been infuriating, but I didn't mind. I knew he would come back to me. There was a tie between us that he could not ignore.  
  
He collapsed bonelessly next to me. The room smelled sweet, like sex and love. Well, at least we knew Jack wasn't running a chill.  
  
"I like Will," Jack whispered. He liked to talk to me afterwards.  
  
"Like how?"  
  
"I think he's good for Seamus. He's a sweet innocent. Wouldn't mind havin' him on my ship." He settled further into the pillow, looking like he would fall asleep.  
  
"What about the girl?"  
  
"Now that's a tough one, that is. But I figure Will won't remember much of her after Seamus."  
  
"That's too bad," I said, feeling sympathetic for the girl.  
  
"Nah. She's got a commodore after her. She'll live happily ever after, mark my words. But Will's honor-bound to rescue her."  
  
"That's kind," I commented. I kissed his cheek, and soon his soft, regular breathing told me he was asleep. I followed him not long after.  
  
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Aww, sweetness! Did you like this? I dunno. Maggie is just such a vibrant character to write. If you totally didn't get this chapter, that's probably because YOU HAVEN'T BEEN DOING WHAT I'VE BEEN TELLING YOU AND READING MY OTHER STORY! It's your own fault, really. I know nobody's been reading it because I haven't got any stupid reviews for like a week!  
  
Maybe I should boycott this story unless I get at least two reviews. Would that make you review? I've tried bribes. I have no blackmail material. I've tried being nice. I've even tried threats now. What's it going to take? 


	6. An IllFated Rescue

Well, I guess my threats worked! I got THREE REVIEWS! For the last chapter. I am so happy, I could dance. Thanks so much to all of my reviewers! I've been getting really discouraged lately, as you have read. You are the wind beneath my wings!  
  
So, to reward you, here's a super-duper long chapter! It's going to get really confusing, so I've tried to clear it up as much as possible. It starts off in Will's POV, then goes to Seamus' POV, then to Maggie's POV, then back to Will. This is the really angsty chapter, so watch out ahead! I really don't like Elizabeth, so she's not going to play a big part in this. I also haven't seen the movie in like two and a half months, so I'm going to horribly misquote it. Just warning you. Enjoy! (And don't forget to review!)  
  
The next few days lasted only a few moments, but they lasted an eternity. During the day I helped out on deck. I had found my true calling in the rush of the wind and the water splashing the hull. I knew I could not go back to smithing after this adventure.  
  
The nights I spent in Seamus' arms. He was an amazing lover, considerate and gentle but aggressive enough to make our loving exciting. In his embrace I forgot everything else; there was no Elizabeth, no Black Pearl, no Jack, no Port Royal. Nothing but the sea and the ship and him.  
  
We reached Isla de Muerta far too soon. We anchored offshore where we would be invisible to searching eyes. Jack handed me a lantern, and we pushed off in a rowboat towards the island. We passed the Black Pearl, black sails waving ominously in the breeze. I shuddered; Elizabeth and her troubles had been far from my mind as late, but they returned with a vengeance. We rowed quietly through the rock-lined tunnels into a cave.  
  
"Well, lad," Jack said to me, "ye're well on your way to becoming a pirate. Ye spring a man from jail, commandeer a ship from the Royal Navy, and set sail with a crew of buccaneers out from Tortuga, which is basically the pirate capitol of the Caribbean."  
  
I grit my teeth. I knew how close I was to becoming a pirate, to being lost forever in the lull of the waves.  
  
"An' ye're completely obsessed with treasure."  
  
My breath skipped a beat with that last comment. "I am not obsessed with treasure," I retorted angrily.  
  
"Not all treasure is silver an' gold, mate," Jack said quietly. Damn pirate! He could read me too well. I was eager to get out of the boat.  
  
"Will!" Jack said, grabbing at my arm.  
  
"What?" Jack was, once again, vexing me. His face had a more serious cast than usual, so I decided to pay attention.  
  
"Listen, boy. Love is a dangerous game tuh be playin.' There be winners, an' there be losers. You, in your sitiation, you have tuh decide who's the winner, an' who's the loser."  
  
"So?" I knew what he was talking about. I had to choose between Seamus and Elizabeth. Either way I would break a heart. Therefore, I was putting off the decision as long as possible.  
  
"So, I, I uh, I don' want tuh see Seamus hurt, alright?" Jack seemed nervous for some reason. Could this crazy pirate actually care for somebody other than himself? "He's a friend o' mine, boy. An' he's seen lots o' pain in 'is life."  
  
I took Jack's hand in mine. I didn't like to see him so agitated. "I'll try," I told him. "That's all you can ask of me."  
  
"S'all I expected, mate." He clapped me once on the shoulder, grinned, and strode off down the tunnels.  
  
When next I found him, he was peering through a hole in the rocks into a cavern. There stood Elizabeth on a mound of gold. A dirty, disgusting- looking pirate with a very large hat held her tightly, brandishing a rusty knife. I started at the sight, sending a few coins crashing down into the cavern. Jack grabbed my shoulders, pulling me back down.  
  
I wrapped my arms around myself, and I could feel myself shaking. What had they done to her, what were they going to do to her? True, I did not love her with the passion I had possessed in my boyhood, but she was a childhood friend and savior. I couldn't stand to see her bound, pale and frightened and fragile like a young flower when a storm threatened.  
  
Jack swaggered up to me, waving a finger at me.  
  
"Now, Will, I know it's going to be difficult for you, but you must stay here and try not to do anything . stupid." He stopped walking inches away from my nose, far too close for my liking. "Savvy?"  
  
"Savvy," I muttered. I had no intention of staying there.  
  
"Good lad," he said, patting my cheek. He crept off behind a bend in the passage. I, meanwhile, snuck back to our boat and grabbed an oar. I found him watching the proceedings from behind a wall.  
  
"I won't be your leverage, Jack," I said as I swung the oar at his face. It made a soft sort of thud, and I rushed to scope out my plan.  
  
Elizabeth looked surprised to see me when she landed next to my hiding place in the water. I led her out of the cavern back to the rowboat.  
  
She threw her arms around me. "Oh Will, I knew - I mean, I hoped that you would come!"  
  
"Are you alright, Miss Swann?" I asked her. I still opted for the polite route.  
  
"Yes, now I am, now that I'm here with you." She clutched my arm, reluctantly letting go when I had to row the boat. 'If only you knew, dear Elizabeth,' I thought, as she left the oars of the other boats in a trail behind us. My upcoming decision weighed upon me.  
  
Upon our return to the Interceptor, I called for the ladder. Somebody threw it down, and Elizabeth and I were able to climb aboard. I felt her stiffen with fear beside me. "Not more pirates," she said. Her voice was tremulous, as I'd never heard it.  
  
"No," I answered, trying to calm her. "These are my friends."  
  
I surveyed the crew, trying to see them as she would. They were all fairly dirty, a bit smelly, but overall not very threatening. I saw her gaze catch on Seamus and Maggie.  
  
"Where's Jack?" Maggie asked, peering behind us. She looked worried.  
  
I hesitated. "He fell behind," I said. Yes, according to the Pirates' Code, any man that falls behind is left behind.  
  
Maggie's face fell. She ran to the rail of the ship, searching frantically for Jack.  
  
"Raise anchor," Seamus said. His voice carried without him having to raise it. He gave me a long, unreadable look. I sucked in my breath and looked away. I couldn't confront him yet, no. Instead, I led Elizabeth to our room.  
  
I bound her cut hand, reminded painfully of Seamus when he had bound my blisters that first night. Her hands were so small, so soft. I felt like I had to be careful not to break the bones. It struck my heart to hear Maggie crying outside.  
  
"No! We can't leave him! Please, Seamus, don't do this!"  
  
"Will? Will?"  
  
I was startled back into the room, back with Elizabeth. She was looking me seriously in the eyes. With her free hand, she held the token on her necklace.  
  
"Where did you find that?" I asked, knowing immediately what it was. My father's coin sent to me when I was so young. I had thought I lost it the day the ship coming from England was attacked.  
  
"I took it from you the day we found you."  
  
"My father's necklace. I'd thought it lost." I paused. Her words finally sunk in. "Why did you take it?"  
  
Her eyes filled with tears. "Because I thought you were a pirate," she said desperately. I let my hand trail down to the coin to where it rested above her breasts. Those breasts that I had dreamed of touching during my adolescence, that brought no fire to my thoughts now. She unhooked the necklace, handing it to me.  
  
"It wasn't your blood they needed," I said as the truth dawned on me. "It was mine. The blood of a pirate!" My fist pounded the table. I heard her rise and leave the room. Another entered.  
  
"Go away," I muttered. "I don't want to speak to anyone."  
  
"Will Turner," a familiar voice said. Seamus stepped out of the shadow. "Problems with the lady? She looked upset."  
  
"Seamus," I sighed, putting my head in my hands. He sat across from me where Elizabeth had been sitting.  
  
"Will," he said. I could hear his smile.  
  
"I don't think I could talk right now," I told him.  
  
"Well, Will, there seems to be things that need to be talked about." His tone became more serious. "About Elizabeth -"  
  
I would have said something, but he held up his hand for silence. "Let me speak," he ordered. I obeyed. "I like her, Will. She's a good girl. She loves you, I can tell by the look on her face." At my crestfallen look, he smiled carefully. "An' you should consider yourself lucky, to have a woman love you like that. There's not many in the world that can enjoy that kind of a privilege. That's why I want you to choose her."  
  
His words trailed off at the end, but I knew what he had said. I leapt to my feet, kneeling beside him and clutching him into an embrace. "No, Seamus, no! I won't! I love y-"  
  
"Don't say it, boy," he said. His voice was harsh, and he was still stiff in my hands. "You don't love me. I don't deserve it."  
  
"Yes, yes you do, Seamus!" I cried. "Oh, God, please, don't make me do this! I can't, I won't! Please, Seamus, tell me you feel the way I feel about you!"  
  
He wouldn't look me in the eye. I saw tears threatening to spill over his lashes. "Don't push me, boy," he said, pulling away from me. He stood looking down on me. I was still on my knees, and I could feel tears on my face.  
  
"Please, don't," I pleaded.  
  
I watched as he left the room.  
  
~Seamus POV~  
  
"What did you say to him?" Maggie asked as I emerged from the cabin. Her eyes were still dark and stormy. She had not quite forgiven me for giving the order to sail without Jack. "You didn't, Seamus, please say you didn't."  
  
"Didn't what?" I asked. My voice was still ragged. That boy had more on me than he knew. "Didn't tell him to go off and live his life? Didn't tell him to marry the girl and forget about the pirate?"  
  
"You are stupid sometimes, Seamus," she said. "Can't you see how he loves you?"  
  
"Aye." I struggled to keep my voice from breaking. "He shouldn't. Good for neither of us."  
  
"You're still stupid. Love like that doesn't come along every day, you know?"  
  
"I know." I stepped up to the forecastle, taking the helm from Cotton. "Better feed the girl. She'll waste away before our eyes."  
  
~Maggie POV~  
  
I did as Seamus said. Not because he said it, but because the girl needed it. She stood on deck, looking blatantly out of place.  
  
"Miss Elizabeth, is that yer name?" I asked her. She turned to me, startled. "Don' be frightened, love. Ye'll come to no harm on this ship." She blinked once, looking like a panicky doe, then followed me into the captain's quarters.  
  
I set the food down, and she began to eat with all the fervor of a starved woman. I watched her. She was pretty enough. Her hair fell in soft golden-brown curls unbound over her shoulders. She had a small build, and her shoulders looked bony from the frame of the blood-red dress she wore. Her brown eyes were big, and that made her look innocent. Her hands were small and dainty, perfectly manicured. She looked a veritable princess, complete with the quirk in her eyebrows that said she expected her orders to be followed. I held back from liking her. It was she, after all, who challenged Will's love for my brother.  
  
"What is your name?" she asked. She had finished most of what was on her plate, and was now looking at me curiously.  
  
"I'm Maggie," I said.  
  
"Maggie? Salty Maggie? You sailed with Jack Sparrow! The tales say you are his lover!" Her eyes grew even bigger with wonder. I felt a pain in my heart to be reminded of my love.  
  
"Yes, 'tis true," I answered. "And yerself, milady? Will can't keep his mouth shut about you." Why not help the two along, if Seamus was going to muddle up his relationship with Will?  
  
"Really? Oh, I do so hope he asks me to marry him. Maggie, you would know what it is like. To wait and wait so long for your love to be returned. I've loved him since I first saw him, but he does not seem to love me."  
  
"Oh, he loves you, be sure of that," I said through my teeth. "Excuse me, Miss Elizabeth. I must go up on deck."  
  
Once outside, I leaned on the wall. I could tolerate no more of her simpering love story. How could Seamus have abandoned Will to this doll of a creature? I saw what she wanted; her talk of the tales of pirates had convinced me of it. It was a classic story. The rich girl grew bored of her pointless life and ran off with some adventurous rogue. That was what she wanted. Will would not give her that, for he was too filled with honor to dream of taking a woman on such wild adventures with him. Even Jack, were he not taken, would not give her the adventure she craved. And were she given such adventure, she would crack beneath it. I had seen that she was made for the home - helping her husband with some legal documentation would be all the adventure she could take.  
  
But she needed to find out all this on her own.  
  
~Will POV~  
  
I was thrown into the cage like an animal. I ran to the bars, but they had already been shut in my face. The bars were gritty and rusted, but they would hold strong against any assault I could make from inside my cell.  
  
It had all happened so quickly. The Black Pearl was gaining on us, stalking us as carefully as a cheetah might stalk its dinner. We tried to outrun them. Then, when that plan failed, we tried to lose them in the shoals of an island. At a last rush for survival, we threw anything that would fit into the cannons and fired upon the ghost ship. They were unstoppable, and there was little to inhibit them from boarding the Interceptor and taking prisoners. I, however, had been trapped below, attempting to rescue my father's coin from where it had fallen in my room.  
  
By a strange stroke of luck, I escaped right before the Interceptor was blown to pieces. I clambered aboard the Black Pearl, bargaining with my blood the freedom of the crew and of Elizabeth. But we were fast approaching an island, and I didn't know that my lack of specificity would be a source of so much trouble.  
  
So I sat alone in my cell, across the room from the rest of the crew. Elizabeth and Jack had been deposited on a deserted island, bare save a stretch of palm trees. She had given me the longest, saddest look before the lumbering African pirate had made her jump from the plank. I thought Jack had winked at me before he, too, was off swimming toward the island.  
  
I had little hope for my survival. The only thing keeping me alive was the presence of my blood, and there was nothing to stop the pirates from killing me after they got it. Well, at least I would never have to see Seamus again.  
  
He sat across from me, back to the wall. His eyes were closed, and he was pale beneath his outward sun-browned skin. He didn't look his normal, cheerful self. In fact, he looked a bit ill. There was nothing wrong with that; any man who had been put through what we had been would be unwell. Still, it worried me to see it.  
  
~  
  
Despite my doubts, I was still alive at the end. Jack and Elizabeth, save their souls, had escaped that island with the help of the Royal Navy, and together we conquered the pirates and gained our freedom. I was put upon the Dauntless, wounded hand and all, and watched the Black Pearl and all her crew sail away into the moonlight, knowing my heart sailed away with them.  
  
"Impressive, Turner, impressive," said the condescending voice of Commodore Norrington. "Who would have thought the soggy little wretch that we picked up eight years ago would aid us in capturing the most elusive pirate in the Caribbean?"  
  
He was, of course, referring to Jack, who sat in a cell below deck.  
  
"And I can't deny you're brave," he said. I was getting to despise the way he spoke to me. "I must admit, I was skeptical when you came dashing to find my help in rescuing Elizabeth. But now we are safe and headed back to civilization." He lowered his voice so that only I could hear it. "I know you love her, Turner, and it touches me. But you must see that she could never live in your world."  
  
I turned to him, looking him in the eye for the first time since he had begun to speak to me. His face was pale and bland beneath the white powdered wig. He seemed positively boring.  
  
"I feel truly sorry for you," I said, just as softly, "that you will never even touch on the love I have known."  
  
He bristled a bit at that, and quickly walked away. I sighed, glad to be alone once more.  
  
~  
  
As soon as we had arrived at Port Royal, Jack was thrown into prison to await his hanging. For he would hang. He had committed too many crimes for the Navy just to excuse him. I, with my new pirate identity, knew what I had to do.  
  
Just as I had not planned on returning from Isla de Muerta, I did not expect to continue living at Port Royal after I had saved Jack. I walked up to where Elizabeth stood between the Commodore and her father.  
  
"Elizabeth!" I called up to her. "I should have told you this when first I met you. I love you." With all the sweet, loyal affection that a brother would have for his sister, that an apprentice might have for his master.  
  
I tossed my sword just as the trapdoor beneath Jack's feet was loosed. I hardly breathed until he landed on it, barely balancing. Oh well, it would have to do. I had my hands full fighting the executioner and any other members of the Navy that decided to intervene.  
  
I began to think we had a chance. The bumbling idiots that made up the Navy were quickly plucked off. Unfortunately, there were too many, and they kept coming. We ended at a standoff, Jack and I surrounded by their bayonets.  
  
'This is the end,' I thought to myself. I placed my body between their weapons and Jack, stating that my place was here, between them. To my surprise, Elizabeth joined us. While the soldiers might have done away with Jack and I, the daughter of the governor was another matter. Weapons were lowered, and Jack was released to his freedom. He took it in the true Jack Sparrow fashion: by falling backwards off a cliff. In the distance, nearly unseen against the dark walls of the cove, rested the Black Pearl.  
  
I would have followed Jack. I would have left it all behind, swimming with every ounce of my strength to the ship and the one I truly loved. Instead, there was my sweet Elizabeth, holding me in her arms. Reflected in her eyes, I saw my dreams sailing away towards the horizon, never to return again. She kissed me, and it felt like I grew roots that would anchor me forever to this land.  
  
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Now for my favorite part! I get to talk to my reviewers! (Did I mention how much I love you guys?)  
  
RosieR, thank you so much for your really long review. Things like that really help me out as a writer. We share a sentiment. Why doesn't my story have more reviews? Beats me. Well, I hope you like this chapter. I'm anxious to see what you think about it. And the reason I have Seamus? For one, he's sexy as hell. For two, Elizabeth isn't good enough for Will. For three, the movie could use even more hotness. (There's no such thing as too much hotness!)  
  
Scarlett: No need for threats! See, I'm updating! I think I'll leave the threat to boycott up there, though. It seems to attract reviews. So please don't sic Jack the Monkey on me. I wouldn't mind if you set Jack the Pirate on me, though.  
  
CaptainJacksBonnyLass: I'm always eager to meet new reviewers! I'm glad you like the story, and especially my OCR's.  
  
For all who are asking, my other story is called "Jack Sparrow's Story." It's more about Jack and Maggie, and Jack's loss of the Pearl, and other stuff. Sure to be slash in upcoming chapters (if only I could write it!) So be sure to read it, and review too! Speaking of reviewing, why are you still reading? Push the little purple button! 


	7. Joyous Reunion

What, you didn't think I'd leave you hanging, did you?  
  
I can't believe I'm being so nice. I shouldn't update, because you guys are hardly reviewing (thank you, steadfast Scarlett). I just love this chapter. I'm sure you will too. Don't worry, this isn't the end.  
  
However, I might decide /not/ to update for a long time if I don't get reviews. So review!  
  
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I tried to forget him. Every pound of the hammer drew away the memories, but they came rushing back with the tide left behind. It had been a year since last I had seen the Black Pearl or any of her crew, a year since I had resigned myself to life with Elizabeth and her adoring love. Well, I wasn't quite sure about the "love" part. She seemed to take more joy recently in planning our wedding than actually being with me. So I found solace at my forge. The ringing of metal on metal might be enough to drive his voice out of my head.  
  
The door swung open and shut.  
  
"We're closed," I said, not looking up. "You'll have to come back tomorrow."  
  
"An' I was so lookin' forward to speakin' to ye tonight. Well, I suppose it could wait."  
  
It couldn't be. No, this was just some exhaustion-induced dream.  
  
I dared to look up.  
  
He had not changed. He still wore that faded blue bandana that barely contained his mass of dark curls. His mouth still twitched up in that familiar half-smile. His black eyes still sparkled like onyx.  
  
"Seamus?" I asked. Please don't fade away, as you always seem to do in my dreams!  
  
"Yes, Will? I'm glad ye recognize me, mate." Same voice! He was real; he had to be real.  
  
I inched out from behind the anvil. I reached out my hand to touch his, then raised it to touch his face. Oh, yes, he was real! I clutched him as close as I could in an embrace.  
  
"Will, you have to forgive me," he said. His arms were around me as well, his voice in my ear. "Will, forgive me for making the biggest mistake of my life. I'll understand if you don't. I mean, I wouldn't, not after the trouble I've caused you."  
  
I silenced him with a kiss. God, he tasted the same! I could feel him shaking; he had really been afraid that I would refuse him.  
  
"I have waited for this moment for too long," I told him. "I would do anything to keep you by me. I forgive you, Seamus, only if you forgive me for leaving you."  
  
"Then I suppose forgiveness is needed from neither side." He put a hand on top of my head. "Don't ever let me leave you again, Will Turner."  
  
"I don't plan to." We kissed again. I felt more alive than I had since we had parted.  
  
I pulled him over to a chair at a table and we sat down.  
  
"Where have you been, Seamus?" I asked him. "What warrants this unexpected but very welcome visit?"  
  
"Well, the Black Pearl's come back to Port Royal," he began. "We've lost a number of the crew along our path. So we're here to kidnap ye back to us." He grinned jovially. "No. I miss ye, Jack misses ye, and even Maggie misses ye, Will. And we'll not be in port long . we were thinking you might want to come with us."  
  
"Whenever, wherever you ask me, I will go," I declared.  
  
"Right, good. Now, where's the whisky?"  
  
My stifled laugh came out like a snort. He just grinned harder.  
  
"You will never change, will you, Seamus?" I asked, sure I would split my face with my smile.  
  
"Not if ye're lucky, mate."  
  
I heard the door from the back of the shop open. Elizabeth was the only person to use that door, now that John Brown had passed away. Wouldn't you know it, he was in a tavern, a mug of their strongest ale in front of him, when it happened. They said it was his heart. I hadn't thought he had one.  
  
"Will!" she called as she entered the shop. "Will, where are you?"  
  
"In here, Elizabeth," I said. I motioned for Seamus to be quiet and still, but he was already rising to greet her.  
  
"Elizabeth Swann!" he pronounced. "My dear, ye grow more lovely ev'ry time I see ye. Why, ye're the bloom o' womanhood!"  
  
She blushed a fashionable pink. "Seamus, you're such a flatterer," she said softly.  
  
"Am I not right, Will?" he asked, slinging an arm over my shoulder. "Is she not the loveliest woman ye've laid eyes on?"  
  
"None lovelier," I told her, truthfully. I was sorry to break her heart.  
  
"Well, anyways, as I was sayin' tuh Will here," Seamus continued, gesturing to me, "I'm in town a bit fer a visit. I says to meself, 'Seamus, why don't ye visit yer old friends Will and Elizabeth? They must be bored without a pirate to keep 'em comp'ny.' So, here I am! An' now, I'm afraid, I must dash. Got pirate sorta business tuh take care of, mates!  
  
"S'long, Elizabeth," he said, bending to kiss her cheek. "Farewell, Will." He placed a kiss on my cheek as well, whispering, "Meet me at ten o'clock at the Rusty Sword. We've things to discuss."  
  
"I'll be there," I whispered back.  
  
One last wave and he was out the door.  
  
Elizabeth stood, looking shocked as if a hurricane had just passed her by and she didn't know quite what to make of it.  
  
"Well, he's certainly full of energy, isn't he?" she commented breathlessly.  
  
"Yes," I agreed. "What did you want to speak to me about, Elizabeth?"  
  
"Oh," she said, hands fluttering about her throat. "I've quite forgotten. Well, perhaps I'd better be back to home. Good night, Will." She kissed my lips, but I hardly felt it.  
  
~  
  
The Rusty Sword was a tavern on the other side of town. The side of town that was known for its shady business. If you were looking for a fight, or perhaps alcohol so strong that it was illegal, that was where you went. The Rusty Sword was an out-of-the-way, dingy sort of place, right in between two dark and intimidating alleys.  
  
It was the perfect hideaway for a pirate.  
  
Seamus was by himself in a shadowed corner, customary glass of whisky in front of him. The room was small, and there were not many present. Those who were gave me suspicious looks, then turned back to their drinks; apparently, they wanted no more trouble than I did. The fumes of strong alcohol wafted through the air.  
  
" 'Ello, mate," Seamus said as I approached. He gestured to a seat next to him before downing the glass of whisky.  
  
"Want to talk, Seamus?" I asked, taking his direction.  
  
He nodded. "Now, lad, we've got a few problems," he began, sounding very businesslike. "First is the girl. I still like her. We've got to find a way to sort of ease 'er off. Gotta be careful 'bout that. Second is yer job."  
  
"Oh, I can take care of that easily enough," I said. "There are always men coming to town looking for work, and I'm sure at least one of them is a blacksmith."  
  
"Good. Less for me to do. Third problem is ye're far too sober. More whisky fer me an' me mate!" he shouted.  
  
"Now, Will," he continued, "let me describe this fourth problem to you. You probably haven't had a good screw in ages, am I right, mate?" I nodded slowly. Elizabeth wasn't much inclined to premarital sex, and I could find no one I loved as much as Seamus if I searched the world over. "So yer problem is, then, that ye're wearing far too much clothing. Where is the whisky?" he shouted again, banging the table.  
  
We began to get irritated stares from the other men in the tavern. "Seamus," I said, "you had better stop. They're getting angry with us."  
  
"Forget the whisky," he said as he paid the barkeep, ignoring me. "Come along, Will. We've places to go, people to see, things to do."  
  
He strode out of the tavern, knowing I would follow. Follow I did. He wandered haphazardly down the streets, looking every bit the drunken pirate. Yet his pace was quick, and I rushed to keep up with him.  
  
Without warning, he stopped and turned around, bringing me crashing into him (as was surely his plan). He kissed me thoroughly, and I was glad there was nobody else on the streets to witness my unraveling in his arms. I moaned, I know that. God, how had I forgotten the way his lips felt, the taste of his tongue, the way his body fit mine?  
  
"Was this always how it was?" he asked, eyes glazed and sparkling. "How did I let you go? You're more precious than stardust and moonbeams."  
  
"You said Jack and Maggie missed me," I said, backing him to a wall so I could kiss him more firmly. He grinned conspiratorially at me. "How much did they miss me?"  
  
"Oh, not as much as I did, mate," he gasped. My lips had found that special spot beneath his ear. "By that God you're always calling on, we'd better get inside. Your place or mine?"  
  
"You have a place?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then I suppose it'll be my place." He wrapped a leg around mine, and I wondered if we would make it back to my room at the shop.  
  
"O'Riley."  
  
The voice came from behind me. It was deep and gravelly, and I knew whoever spoke was a good deal larger than I was.  
  
"Charlie," Seamus replied in a soft voice. I felt him stiffen and draw away from me. "Charlie Brosnan."  
  
"Glad ye remember me, O'Riley. Knew I'd find you here, whoring yerself away tuh some piece of trash."  
  
I bristled at this. Seamus came out in front of me, hand on my chest to arrest any action, and I had a chance to take a look at our offenders. The leader was a burly man with stringy and graying red hair and a face nearly as lobster-colored. He was thick-built; he had beefy shoulders above a barrel chest and hands that could probably encircle my head. Did I mention that he was a good head taller than Seamus was? God, Seamus looked downright small next to him. It didn't help that his four goons were all the same size, though with even less intelligence. Seamus stood his ground in front of me, though I doubted even his fierce strength could stand against foes of this size.  
  
"What do ye want, Charlie?" Seamus asked calmly. One had to know him to detect the strings of steel in his voice.  
  
"What d'ye think I want, Seamus?" The man had raised his voice to a hiss- like shout. "I warned ye not tuh get involved with me daughter, ye dirty pirate. But ye'd have none of it! Stole from 'er ev'rythin' she 'ad! Dowry, love, virginity, Seamus!"  
  
" 'Ow's she now, Charlie?" Seamus asked with a careful grin. "Maybe I'll give 'er a visit."  
  
This was too much for Charlie. Quicker than I had guessed he could move, he had his hand around Seamus' throat. Seamus was a small man, compactly built, and fairly light. He lifted a good foot off the ground legs dangling and kicking. It was only the brawny men restraining me that kept me from leaping forward to help him.  
  
"She wanted it, Charlie," Seamus wheezed, hands grasping Charlie's at his throat. "If ye think I'm a whore, go home an' see what she's doin.' Might surprise ye."  
  
Charlie gave one last ferocious growl and threw Seamus to the street. He lay for a second, trying to regain his breath. He coughed and wheezed terribly. I tore at the hands containing me, but they wrenched me back into place. Charlie turned his attention back to me. The rage on his face was enough to frighten any man, but I was feeling too angry with him to fear him. At least, not that much.  
  
"What d'we 'ave 'ere, boys?" he said, looking me over. "Seamus, where'd ye pick this one up? Reminds me o' me daughter."  
  
The men holding me laughed thickly. I tried to twist away again, but they were too strong. I didn't like the direction this conversation was heading. I was suddenly aware of the heat seeping through my shirt from their beefy fingers.  
  
"Don' struggle, boy," Charlie said. He towered over me as well.  
  
I listened for Seamus' breathing, and found I could not hear it. Well, at least he got away. That was what I thought he had done until I heard a muffled thud from my right.  
  
"What the -" Charlie managed to cry out before Seamus was there. They had been fools to think that a near-death experience could keep Seamus O'Riley down for long. I had had a close experience with those knives of his before, the first time I had met him. Now I got to see him really work.  
  
There were only three of them fighting. One Seamus had taken down before the fight had begun, and Charlie stood off to the side, silently steaming as he let his men do the dirty work.  
  
Not that it was dirty. It was beautiful to watch Seamus fight. He held off all three at once, teeth bared almost ferociously, gliding through the movements as though he had been born to them. It was verily like a ballet, if one disregarded the blood. Oh, one more down. And another.  
  
Finally, it was down to Seamus and Charlie, as could have been expected. Charlie threw himself at Seamus, charging like a bull, hoping to overwhelm him with his superior height and weight. No matter. Seamus wheeled out of the way, quick spinning and twisting.  
  
It ended gracefully. Charlie sank to his knees, then down to the street, Seamus' knife sticking from his back. Little time had passed since the beginning of this vendetta, and I felt dazed. Seamus was standing where he had taken Charlie down, chest heaving softly after his exertions.  
  
"Seamus." I said, going to him. He sort of collapsed into my arms, resting his head on my shoulder.  
  
"They would have killed you, Will," he whispered. I could feel his fingers in my hair. It was eerie; I think they still had blood on them. "I didn't want to kill them, I didn't. They would have killed you."  
  
"Shh," I murmured in an attempt to comfort. "There was no loss to humanity."  
  
He pushed himself away from me, wiping at his eyes. "Here," he said, "help me with this."  
  
Slowly, we dragged the bodies until they were leaning against the wall of the closest establishment. Arranged like that, they appeared to be a few dirty friends, fallen asleep after getting drunk.  
  
"People die around here all the time," Seamus said, kicking the last leg into place. "There's not even any evidence. But if they ask," he looked straight at me, pointed at me, "you were not involved."  
  
I nodded, perfectly willing not to be connected with the death of Charlie and his henchmen. Seamus wiped his blades on the legs of his breeches, and slowly we stumbled back to the blacksmith's shop. Seamus stopped me from going inside.  
  
"Will," he said, "I don't want to impose. If you've no wish for me to be here tonight, just say the word. All I'm asking for is a bed, it needn't be yours -"  
  
I had to silence him with a kiss once again. Why was he so convinced that I would refuse him?  
  
"Silly pirate," I said. "You are welcome in my bed whenever you like. Unless you would prefer the floor?"  
  
"No, I think I'll be making good of your offer, blacksmith." He grinned gratefully at me. "Thanks, Will."  
  
"Don't mention it. Anyways, you'll make it up to me."  
  
"Nay, Mr. Turner, I think I'll punish you for your cheek. Maybe I'll sleep with the donkey." He was petting said donkey, pausing once or twice to pick out fleas from her admittedly mangy coat.  
  
"You'll not be wanting to sleep with the ass, Mr. O'Riley," I said, moving closer. The door swung shut behind me. "She's old and cranky, and she doesn't take to strangers well."  
  
"Who says I don't want to sleep with your ass, Mr. Turner?"  
  
We were inches apart. I could feel his warm breath on my lips. How little it would take to close that distance between us, how sweet the tension that mounted.  
  
"Dear Seamus, you can sleep with my ass whenever you like." God, how little it took for him to unwind me!  
  
He pulled me into a kiss. Yes, there was his tongue, his smooth perfect teeth. It felt so right, so complete. I did not remember his love feeling this good, burning so warm his skin was hot to the touch. He moaned into my mouth.  
  
We were interrupted abruptly when Mary-Lou brayed.  
  
"I think she wants us to take it into someplace more private," Seamus said. His lips tickled when they brushed against mine.  
  
I led him back to my room. Had it only been a year? It had been an eternity and a day, for I missed him so badly. It had not even been an hour, for I remembered his body so well.  
  
"I'm so afraid you're going to be a dream," I told him. It was this time him who comforted me.  
  
"Shh," he murmured. "I'm no dream. And I won't leave you again, Will Turner. The devil couldn't force me to."  
  
Was it a sigh? A sob? There was a sound that came from my mouth. He wouldn't leave me, and I wouldn't leave him.  
  
His fingers still had that touch that awakened my senses and warmed my skin. Yes, I felt the telltale stirrings of desire strung through my body. Our hands were hungry, and we fairly ripped our clothes off each other. Oh, it had been a year. I had forgotten how his skin gleamed, how his muscles rippled across his slender frame. I had also forgotten that his ribs were visible.  
  
"Have you been eating, Seamus?" I asked, trying to keep my tone joking. I was worried. "You are skinnier than the last time I saw you."  
  
His face clouded for a moment. "Just get on with it, you oaf," he said as he trailed a hand down my cheek.  
  
I sighed. I would deal with him after I made love to him. He felt tense and sort of jumpy and desperate.  
  
"Something is wrong, Seamus," I said, taking his chin to make him look at me. "Will you tell me?"  
  
He kissed me again. "The only problem we have, mate," he said, "is you're taking too damn long."  
  
I got to his wishes. Finally he was relaxing. He tossed his head back with utter abandonment. It was a beautiful thing to watch: his dark curls thrown against my pillow, his cheeks gleaming with sweat, his dark thick eyelashes that might have been feminine if they hadn't contained such steel- sharp eyes.  
  
"So you stole her virginity, Seamus?" I asked him. All I could manage was a hoarse sort of voice, for his lips were brushing down my chest. "How did she like that?"  
  
"Well, mate," he said, not looking up from his work, "I'd say she enjoyed it. But it weren't me what stole her virginity, aye?" He kissed me in the hollow of my neck. "She came to me, she said, 'Seamus, I love you, I want you.' "  
  
"Really?" I asked.  
  
"Nah. I just like to think I can steal hearts that easily."  
  
"Oh, you can, Seamus, you can."  
  
Elizabeth was beautiful in a dollish sort of way. Seamus had a real, raw, bleeding beauty. It wasn't just his shining dark hair or his glittering eyes or the way his slender muscles played over his bones; it was the way he carried himself, the way he had a love and lust for life that was insatiable. If my love for Elizabeth was like a candle, my love for Seamus was like a bonfire.  
  
It is indescribable to one who has never known such love. I lost sense of time. When finally we were too tired to continue, he collapsed back onto my bed. He was still shaking. Gingerly, I lifted him and switched our positions. He was priceless. His strong, slender fingers were curled below my neck; his legs tangled with mine, his breathing soft and warm over my chest. I wanted to keep him forever, and I would.  
  
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I didn't know I could write so sweet! Ha, that's funny. I didn't notice until after I was finished with this chapter that Mary-Lou is the name of the donkey in Holes. Oh, well. I don't own her, either.  
  
Hey, if you're going to review, please be specific, even if it's only going to be a five-word specificity. I got a really vague one from alanye (not that I'm complaining!) But were you meaning my story is good and should have more reviews, or what? I'd agree with you, definitely, but please tell me particular things you like or dislike. It helps me write.  
  
I think I'll make the next chapter really short. (*wicked smile) I'm going to punish all of you who aren't reviewing. 


	8. Seamus Muses

Another Seamus POV! I was disappointed at the lack of feedback about the last chapter (*clicks tongue). How am I supposed to be a better writer if you guys don't tell me what to do?  
  
Just warning you: there's a part coming up where you will need to have read my other story to understand. Not this chapter, but maybe the next. I'd suggest reading it (there's some nice slash in chapter 8 ;) )! Just a hint. You'll be terribly confused if you don't.  
  
I'll talk to reviewers at the bottom. I just wanted to let all of you guys know that I love you for reviewing and all that crap. I just wish you'd do more of it. I was reading Vanillusion's story the other day. She has 9 chapters and 521 (or so) reviews! Why is this not true with my story? Oh well.  
  
Remember, this is Seamus POV. Don't be confused.  
  
Enjoy! Review!  
  
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I woke at dawn, as I always did. He was still asleep. Don't look so innocent, Will. I have murdered before your eyes. How long will you keep that innocence if you live with me?  
  
But his love was so pure. Could I be redeemed? I had killed many men, but none that were innocent. They had all deserved death. Oh, you have to be careful with the power to take life. You cannot deal out death and judgement as such. Even I am mortal, even I make mistakes. Charlie had had a wife and a family, even if he had beat them and driven his daughter to prostitution. Could I honestly say that the world would now be better now that Charlie was dead?  
  
I hated dilemmas like this. I wanted my parents, the both of them for once; I wanted their advice. Will comforted me, and that was nice. I still think he didn't quite understand what a pirate's life entailed.  
  
Will shifted in his sleep, holding me tighter around my waist. I kissed him lightly. I went back to sleep, savoring the luxury I enjoyed so rarely.  
  
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Muahahaha! A short chapter! Are you angry? Irate? Furious? Steamed? Tell me! I think Seamus is a sweetie, and I love writing his POV. There will be more of this in upcoming chapters, so sit tight!  
  
To Kasis: Thank you for your support! I think you win the prize for the person who sticks with my story the most! Don't worry, you aren't Moro. Like I said, Moro was who was reviewing my other story a lot, and I unwittingly dedicated a few chapters to her. No, no, Moro, you don't get Seamus unless you read my story! And review it! Anyways, Kasis, thanks. Self-esteem is like way up here (*reaches above head). See?  
  
To crooksiepoo: You're anonymous, so I can't check up on you. Thank you for the compliment! Read more, I think you'll like it! very entertaining, isn't it? (*grins evilly). Gosh, I have to stop doing that. I'm going to freak people out. Cheers!  
  
To bouuncyball: You're anonymous, too! I'm glad you like my story so much. Remember, Seamus is mine! Good luck on the exams! I hope you have time to review again.  
  
To all the rest of you, please review! It really makes the day sunny! 


	9. Between A Rock and A Hard Place

Ha ha! Hello again! I got a few more reviews (not enough to satisfy my undeclared goal, but good!). Thank you to all those people out there that are reviewing.  
  
I just felt like updating. I'm so hyper (no, it's not coffee!). I was in a play this weekend, though I bet you've never heard of "You can't take it with you." I had a wonderful part. Anyways, we were double casting because so many girls always come out for the plays. I got a main female role! Go me! I saw the other cast perform tonight, and personally, I think my cast did way better. Ooh, saw my sexy Russian lover take his shirt off ahhh! Well, he's not really Russian, and he's not really my lover, he's the sexy younger brother of my good friend. But he's sexy, okay? Think Seamus . yeah, he's that sexy, though a lot taller.  
  
But enough about me. Let's get on to Will and Seamus!  
  
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To my surprise, Seamus was asleep when I awoke. Squinting, I looked up at the window. It was perhaps two hours after dawn. I tucked a curl of hair back behind his bandana. He twisted, awakening.  
  
"Well, finally you're up, Mr. Turner," he said, grinning. "How'd ye sleep?"  
  
"Better than I have in ages." I returned the grin. "I'll find some breakfast."  
  
As I was rising, I heard a pounding at the door. Seamus sat up suddenly, glancing around with a look of half-fear on his face.  
  
"Shh," I said to him. "I'll take care of this. You stay here."  
  
He looked up at me, eyes wide. I touched his shoulder once before scrambling into my clothing. I ran to the door where whoever it was so intent upon entering was still pounding.  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming," I said testily. "Yes?" I asked as I opened the door.  
  
"Mr. Turner," Commodore Norrington said, brushing past me, "we've a warrant to search this place. We have reason to believe you are harboring a fugitive."  
  
All I could do was gape. Surely they hadn't . "There are no grounds for this, Commodore."  
  
"Come, come, now, Turner," Norrington said with a condescending smile. "We all know your history with the shady characters called pirates. If there is truly nothing to fear, let us search and prove me wrong."  
  
The men with him were investigating the shop, overturning anything that could be refuge of a pirate. Mary-Lou brayed her displeasure. Then I saw the soldiers edging towards my bedroom.  
  
"There's nothing in there, nothing at all, just my bedroom," I protested, trying to make my way over before they did. But they opened the door to . nothing. Seamus wasn't in the room. It was true. All that was in my room was my bed and the pile of Seamus' clothing. His clothing? Uh-oh.  
  
"See?" I said.  
  
"What's this?" a soldier asked, picking up Seamus' shirt.  
  
"Yesterday's shirt," I told them, perhaps too quickly. They didn't seem to notice.  
  
"Look at this, Commodore." One of them had his pants. Under close examination, I could see the blood where Seamus had wiped his blades. "Is that blood?"  
  
"Did you know a man by the name of Charlie Brosnan, Mr. Turner?" The Commodore's tone was icy.  
  
"Why?" I asked. I could feel fear beginning to steal through me.  
  
"He was found dead last night, close to an establishment that witnesses saw you at. Does the name 'the Rusty Sword' ring any bells? Hmm? How Elizabeth will love hearing that her fiancé murdered a man in one of the shadiest areas in town." He gestured to his soldiers. "Chain him up, men. William Turner, you are hereby arrested for the murder of Charlie Brosnan on the night of October 17, 1685. I would caution you not to say anything."  
  
I could not speak. I took my arrest docilely; if they had me, perhaps they would not trouble to look for Seamus. He had escaped; the better for him. But oh, I wanted him now, wanted his comfort telling me that everything would turn out all right. I looked up in horror as he swung down from the rafters.  
  
" 'Ello, Commodore," he said, placing a knife at said officer's neck before he even had time to blink. He was wearing that terrible smile of his. "Glad tuh see me?"  
  
"Seamus O'Riley," Norrington said softly.  
  
You could hear the jaws drop in the quiet of the room. Seamus was very naked, wearing only that faded bandana, though he looked far from vulnerable. He was utterly in control, knowing he held the commander of the ships of Port Royal at knifepoint. But that wasn't entirely why the jaws were dropping. Seamus was beautiful, then, in a sort of careless way. No, he wouldn't care that his hair was escaping and falling down his shoulders in the most alluring way. He wouldn't mind that that smile was completely enticing.  
  
"Seamus. I thought I'd find you here," the Commodore said. He tried to sound amused, but it didn't work. Any man who didn't fear Seamus at that point was witless. "Men, arrest this one as well."  
  
"I don't think so, Commodore," Seamus said as he wheeled Norrington around in front of him. Norrington knelt in an uncomfortable position, unable to move for the knife still sticking in his throat. "Release the boy."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me," Seamus said, tightening his hold. "Release him. He wasn't involved. An' I'd be glad to have me pants back, sir." He gestured to the man still holding his pants incredulously. "Quick, now." The soldier tossed him the garments.  
  
"Are you telling me, O'Riley," Norrington gasped out, "that you are the one who killed Charlie Brosnan the night previous?"  
  
"That I am, Commodore."  
  
"Then how came you to be in young Turner's shop?"  
  
Seamus' smile told me he had just noticed me, but his eyes begged me to be quiet. "Well, I needed a place to lie low, didn't I? This shop looked like an inconspicuous place. Guess I was wrong."  
  
"Then why're you naked?" a soldier asked. Seamus turned to him, exasperation in his eyes.  
  
"I never sleep with me clothes on, mate," Seamus explained as though it should be obvious. "Bloody uncomfortable, it is."  
  
"What are your conditions, O'Riley?" Norrington asked. He was starting to look a little blue.  
  
"First, release the lad. He hasn't done nothing. Second, let me get me pants on."  
  
"You're willing to come with us?"  
  
"Well, the way I see it, if ye did let me go, ye'd be right back again after me. Why don't we get the dirty stuff done away with early now, Norrington?"  
  
I opened my mouth to say something, but Seamus silenced me with a look. I watched as Seamus released the Commodore from his grasp. "Toss me that belt there, that's a good lad, Will," he said. He pulled the pants on, securing them with the belt. Not a few of the soldiers looked sorry to see him clothed again. I felt somewhat sick.  
  
They took his hands in manacles, securing them tightly. They dragged him away from the shop, off to the fort where they would keep him until his hanging. I felt certain they wouldn't give him a trial.  
  
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How'd that sound to you folks?  
  
I liked it.  
  
Okay, those are lines from the play. See, my "husband" makes fireworks in the basement, and my father quit work 35 years ago, and . oh yeah, you want to hear more about the story.  
  
Don't worry! There's much more to come!  
  
Kasis: Thank you for sticking with me! I was happy to note that you are the ONLY PERSON so far to read BOTH OF MY STORIES! That was very nice. No prob. I explain things fairly clearly most of the time.  
  
Bouuncyball: I live for your joy! I'm so glad I can make you happy! I had somebody explain the term "fluff" to me, and I think this story is a nice, fluffy alternative, don't you? Let me know what you think of other things. Like this story. Or my other story.  
  
Desti: Don't worry, I hate Liz too. Hee hee, see what I get to do to her! It's not like painful or anything, it's just Will's enlightenment. Yes, that's what it is. And of course it doesn't involve a great deal of dynamite. no, really, it doesn't.  
  
Johnnyd::desti: I love knowing I torture people! That makes you come back for more! Now you have to see how it ends! Seamus is a sweetie, isn't he? (*drool) Dagnabit, all over my keyboard.  
  
Now, I need to reiterate. THERE IS A PART COMING UP IN WHICH YOU WILL NEED TO HAVE READ MY OTHER STORY. OTHERWISE YOU WILL BE VERY CONFUSED. IF YOU DON'T READ MY OTHER STORY, DON'T BLAME ME FOR YOUR CONFUSION. Thank you, that is all. Just go read the story, okay? 


	10. A Fortunate Rescue

If you haven't already, GO READ MY OTHER STORY! THIS IS THE CHAPTER I'VE BEEN TELLING YOU ABOUT! DON'T BE CONFUSED, PLEASE!  
  
But it is a sweet chapter. Nice and fluffy. For all of you who like Seamus POV, this is the chapter for you! Completely Seamus! No Will (sorry).  
  
Please do not blame Neldluva for any confusion that might occur from your FAILURE TO FOLLOW MY DIRECTIONS AND READ THE OTHER STORY! I know you haven't been reading it because I haven't got reviews for like a week.  
  
So please, enjoy, and tell me what you think. Who thinks I can get as many reviews as Gray Elven-Eyes and reach my 200 goal? (*waves arm wildly) I do! Come on! I need you to do it!  
  
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Damn solid iron. They'd left me manacled. Well, this ruined my plans a bit. No matter. Just might take a little longer to get out of this cell.  
  
But it was cold. I had left Will's shop dressed only in my pants, and the sea breezes flowed freely through my little barred window.  
  
My neck hurt from the night before. I had bruises where Charlie had tried to choke me. Charlie - I'd met the man in some small island port. I didn't even remember the name. I remember Jack was with me at the time. It being Jack, we had wandered around the taverns. He was roaring drunk and I was not a little fazed myself. Jack had passed out by the time the stringy red-haired girl found us. I remembered skinny white arms wrapped around my neck and little breasts pressed against my chest. I believe I showed that girl her first moment of real happiness in her entire life.  
  
Unfortunately her father had seen us disappear together. And while I wasn't the first the girl had been with, I was the first her father had seen her with. It probably hadn't helped the situation that I had helped myself to a few of the trinkets she had had lying around; I am, after all, a pirate. He chased me out of the room and followed me out to the street. I rushed to find Jack, prying him from the arms of a soft-looking, brown haired lad, and we set sail to wander the seas again.  
  
I couldn't have let Will take the blame for what I had done. He was so young and innocent to boot. I helped him out, negotiating for his release with my own capture. The man, Norrington, gave me the shivers. He seemed a heartless sort of man. Damn, it was cold! I huddled around myself and blew on my fingers.  
  
That was the man who loved Elizabeth. Well, he didn't exactly love her. He liked pretty ornaments that he could show off. Elizabeth had been next on the line of these ornaments, until Will had factored in and ruined everything. Then I burst in and ruined everything again. Only I had ruined it the right way.  
  
The cold must be getting to my head. I would have turned skin, but the manacles prevented me from doing so.  
  
I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Their echoing pace awoke me from my little daydream. There was the sound of a riot from outside my window. It was just a bit higher than eye level for me, but the sound told me enough. The soldiers in the Navy offices were all rushing out, busy quelling a peasant mob. And let me tell you, there was always one of those going on in times like these.  
  
Will's head appeared from behind the wall. Of course.  
  
"I should have known," I said to him. "What took you so long, lad?"  
  
"Back off," he said, reaching for a bench outside the cell. Bracing it against the cell door, he levered it until it swung open with a loud crash.  
  
"Done this before, have you?" I asked with a smile. He didn't even wait for me to come out of the cell. He rushed in, taking me in his arms. He was so warm . I just stayed there, absorbing comfort when I needed it most, until the gooseflesh on my arms had gone away. I sighed, kissed him on the cheek.  
  
"We'd best be off, mate," I said. "That mob won't hold 'em for long. Now, let me ask: were you the one who started all of that, lad? Bloody dangerous, 'tis."  
  
"I needed a distraction," he replied, looking at his shoes.  
  
"Come on," I said, leading him up the stairs. At the top lay the guard, unconscious. I raised my eyebrows at Will; I hadn't thought him capable of assaulting a member of the Navy in such a manner. He nodded, looking modest. I stole the officer's coat. Well, he wasn't using it, was he?  
  
Now, the manacles were still a problem. "Hey, Will," I called as we ran from the offices, dodging the mob. "What of me irons, mate?"  
  
So we took a turn, down an alley, across a street, through an inn, and we were back at his shop. He opened the door carefully, but there was no one inside. We had successfully made it away without being caught. I had to hand it to Jack; the boy did have the makings of a pirate.  
  
In no time the locks to my manacles had been picked and I was free. Warm arms encased me again.  
  
"Time enough later, Will," I said. No, I could not surrender at that moment. I was still a fugitive, and they knew where to look to find me. I pushed softly out of his arms and went to his room to find my shirt. There was no conceivable way that I would step out of that shop wearing a dreadful red coat.  
  
So, shirt replaced and knives back at my waist, I walked over to say good- bye to Will. He was sitting in one of two chairs before his forge, patiently waiting for me. He had the most hopeful look on his face.  
  
"If I know Jack," I said as I sat in the other chair, "he's given you the 'can do and can't do speech,' am I right?"  
  
He nodded, quoting Jack: "There are two things in this world: what a man can do and what a man can't do."  
  
"Yes, so you know what I'm talking about." I leaned back, focusing on what to say. "Now, William Turner, what I can't do is leave you ignorant of your options. The first choice is that you'd stay here with your charming Elizabeth. It would be difficult, mate, seeing as you've just sprung me from jail, but I'm sure the lovely lady would make it happen. You'd live a happy life with the woman you love, at home safe from danger apart from the occasional pirate threat.  
  
"Or." I paused. He was not looking happy with that first option, and I was secretly happy. "Or, you could come with me. Jack and Maggie and the crew and I are sailing back."  
  
"Back where?" he asked curiously. His eyes were bright. This was a lad that was starved for adventure, that was true enough.  
  
"Home. France." His face clouded. No, he wasn't upset; he was just turning inward to observe his choices. I didn't blame him. France was nothing like the warm Caribbean where he had grown up. There were the trees, and the mountains, and home . my heart was filled with longing at the thought.  
  
"Now, Will," I continued, "I'm not asking you to decide right now. We're leaving tomorrow morning. If you do decide to come with us, I'd ask you to bid dear Elizabeth farewell with all that gentlemanly grace you possess, and come meet us at the Oyster's Treasure. You know where that is?"  
  
He nodded. It was another inn, far away and far less shady than the inn we had visited the night before. That was where Maggie and Jack were holed up.  
  
"An' if ye don' show, we'll be assumin' ye're stayin' here with the lass. Though," I said as I brought him close, "I hope that's not what ye're decidin'."  
  
"What I can't do, Seamus," he said softly, "is I can't let you go. I don't care what the destination; I'm coming with you. Nothing anybody says or does can stop me."  
  
He was kissing my cheek. He found that weak spot right below my ear that first night we were together. It's a very sensitive area. He had no idea how much it completely undoes me. I had inadvertently taught him the art of seduction too well. I could feel the passion welling up within me. No help for it now. I kissed him back, hoping it would convey all that I was feeling at that moment.  
  
"There's no time for that now, Will," I said. He started to protest, but I put my fingers on his lips. "I'm a wanted man. They'll be looking everywhere for me once they notice I'm gone, and this will be the first place they look. I must be gone. We will look for you before midnight."  
  
"I don't -" he began, then cleared his throat. "Won't you stay and have breakfast with me? When was the last time you ate?"  
  
I looked down, refusing to answer. I should have been gone by that point. I also didn't want to admit to Will that I hadn't been eating so much since we parted.  
  
"Stay here," he ordered, pressing me into the chair. "I'll find something for you to eat."  
  
Before I could think of escaping, he was back with some food. "It's not much," he said, "but it'll keep us alive."  
  
"Thank you," I whispered. I took a piece of bread and nibbled. I watched Will set to with a healthy, still-growing appetite, and it made me happy. I could hardly imagine how much our reunion meant to me.  
  
"You should eat," he said, looking up from his plate. "You're still too skinny. I don't want you to die before you get home."  
  
The wolf glared me in the eyes. (A/N: This is a reference you probably wouldn't understand unless you have read my other story!) He was ordering me to eat. It would keep us alive, and we wanted to live. I complied with the double attack, and I ate more that afternoon than I had eaten at one sitting in a month.  
  
I felt much better after eating, it was true. But I had to go. I kissed Will one last time before rushing out the door and back to the Oyster's Treasure.  
  
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Ha! Did you get it? Did you read my other story like I told you to, so you understand that Seamus is a WEREWOLF? I hope so. Otherwise this will be a very nasty shock for you and you won't read any more. But you have to read, to find out what happens. Because trust me, a lot more happens. Will has to meet the family, you know?  
  
Johnnyd::desti: Thank you for sticking with me. Through all my quirks and stuff. Yeah. I didn't like Norrington in the movie, so I get to make him an idiot all I want. Hee, hee, hee. Of course Seamus had a plan. He's Seamus. Does Will seem like a bit of a dolt to you? I think he was a bit thick in the movie, and I don't think I'm doing anything to really flatter him here. Oh well. He's a sweetie anyways. But Seamus is sweeter.  
  
Scarlett: You're back! Thank you for the review. Yes, very sweet. Seamus is just the sort to give up his life for you. Provided he has a way out of it, of course. What say we go to Norrington's house with pitchforks and torches, eh? (Whoa, am I going Canadian?)  
  
Kasis: Yep, we wouldn't want that beautiful, succulent, slender, smooth neck (*drool) getting hurt now, would we? We likes Seamus to stay alive. Rule #1 in writing, as my friend told me, "Never kill main characters!" Obviously, the Wachowski brothers didn't get the memo. Anyways, we can't kill Seamus. He is precious to us.  
  
Evala: Sweet, ain't it? Sadistic? How do you mean? "A sexual perversion in which gratification is obtained by inflicting physical or mental pain on others," according to the Merriam Webster Dictionary. Well, uh, I don't get much sexual gratification from writing short chapters. Getting reviews is another story. anyways. (*blushes) I'm glad you like my story. Are you really physically or mentally hurt when I write short chapters? Ha ha ha, my plan to take over the world is a success - er, uh, never mind.  
  
So review, damnit! What do I have to do to you? Okay, no more cussing. I don't like to cuss. Just review, please? 


	11. Goodbyes Made With Tears

I don't think I intended this to be such a long chapter, but here you go.  
  
Well, I've had one interesting review from somebody who DIDN'T READ THE OTHER STORY LIKE I TOLD THEM TO! Thanks, Scarlett, for pointing out the wisdom in following my directions.  
  
You did read correctly. Seamus is a werewolf. This is why you must read the other story. And you know, you might even like it. People seem to like this one a lot more, but I guess that's the way the cookie crumbles. There's a lovely little slash scene in chapter 8, but the real realization is kind of chapters 4, 5, and 6. (I think. Just read the whole thing.)  
  
Thank you, Evala, for your support. Scarlett, you already know how much I love you. I've reached the 30 mark on my reviews, so that's good. Keep it coming!  
  
Hee hee, I'm already planning out some later chapters. There seems to be some pretty lemony stuff goin' on with Will and Seamus. So stick around for the fun.  
  
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I had about ten hours until midnight. Ten hours within which to tell the only woman I had ever really loved, excepting my mother, that I was going to leave her. And I had no idea how to do it.  
  
I walked up the hill towards the Swann mansion, running through speeches in my head.  
  
"Elizabeth, I'm sorry -"  
  
"Elizabeth, you should know -"  
  
"Elizabeth, there's another -"  
  
Fortunately, I had nothing to worry about. As soon as I was spotted approaching the mansion, Elizabeth came running out to greet me. She was such a contrast to Seamus. Her hair was sunshine, her face porcelain. Her clothing was as pristine as though it had been made that morning. Even her running was dainty, as though she feared ruining her shoes.  
  
"Oh, Will, it must have been terrible!" she exclaimed as she threw herself into my arms.  
  
"What?" I asked, confused.  
  
"Being cornered by that filthy pirate! Father told me all about it! He had you captive. Oh, Will, he could have killed you!"  
  
I sighed. What was I supposed to say? 'Oh, no, Elizabeth, I knew he was there. In fact, we had just finished making love when Norrington interrupted us'? "Filthy pirate? Elizabeth, Seamus was one of the pirates that helped me save you!"  
  
"I suppose you just can't make respectable citizens out of any of them." She squinted up at the sky. "It's terribly bright out, Will. Can we go inside? I've been taking care of my skin."  
  
"Of course." I led her by her arm back into the mansion. She sat down, straight-backed, on a stiff-looking couch upholstered to an inch of its life.  
  
"Will, darling -" she giggled girlishly. "Will, I've been meaning to ask you. What kind of flowers do you think we should have? I was thinking the bougainvillea look especially nice this year, but they're so gaudy."  
  
I'm sure she went on to describe other flowers, but I had ceased to listen. I watched her speak of the wedding, as though it had such importance. But I realized that that was what occupied her attention. It was the wedding and organizing it that infatuated her, not her unfortunate groom. When had her eyes ceased to sparkle when they saw me? Had they never sparkled? If she had ever loved me, she didn't any more. Not more than superficially.  
  
"The hyacinths, Elizabeth. The blue ones," I recommended.  
  
"Hyacinths?" she asked, staring at me oddly. "Yes, I suppose, if you're sure."  
  
"Elizabeth," I said as I embraced her, "you know I love you."  
  
"Yes, Will, I love you too. But what about the dinner? I was thinking that baked trout would be nice, but we would have to ship them."  
  
"Excuse me," I said suddenly. She jumped a little. "I have some unfinished business at the shop. I'll see you later, Elizabeth."  
  
"Good bye, Will," she called as I went out the door. No more refinement for me. No more chandeliers, no more tailored coats, no more insincere politeness, no more powdered wigs, no more overwhelming daintiness; I was going back to what I loved, to what I was born to.  
  
~  
  
It was easier than I had expected to find a blacksmith in the new immigrants. I escorted the fellow to the shop and showed him around. As soon as he was settled, I left again, this time my destination the Oyster's Treasure.  
  
Thunder rumbled ominously overhead, and rain began to patter down softly. I wrapped my cloak tighter around me. Knowing the storms of the Caribbean, I would soon be drenched.  
  
I had been correct in my prediction. It was another delayed summer storm, the kind that swept over small islands and left them nothing but a bit of sand and water. The rain didn't simply fall; it pelted like bullets and bricks. I wiped the water out of my eyes, trying to see. Lightening flashed, blindingly bright, but enough for me to see where I was.  
  
Somehow I had gotten turned around. I was in a strange part of town that I didn't recognize. The street was turning to mud beneath my feet. Despite the rain pouring down in sheets and buckets, there were a few whores out, trying to milk the most out of their business. They cooed at me as I passed by; lightening blared again, and their faces looked gaunt and skull- like. I hurried on my way, eager to be gone and find out where I was.  
  
I approached a man sitting on a barrel. "Excuse me, sir," I implored; loudly, so I could be heard over the rain. "Would you happen to know how -"  
  
Without warning, he leapt up and punched me in my left jaw. It wasn't well aimed, and the shock was worse than the pain, but I saw the intent clear in his eyes. He shouted at me in what sounded like Spanish, brandishing a sword at me that glowed in the lightening.  
  
Taking advantage of the darkness and his blindness, I whipped my own sword out. He yelled, charging at me. I defended frantically, unused to fighting in such conditions. When my sword slid into his chest, it was more accidental than purposeful. He pulled me down with him as he grabbed my sword with his hands.  
  
"Oh, God," I gasped, trembling. I wrenched my sword from his still body. "Oh my God."  
  
I ran, ran far away from that dead man and the blood and mud mingling in the street. I had never killed before. The ghosts that had been Barbossa's crew, they were already dead when I "killed" them. This, what I had just done, this was murder. My hands were stained and would never become clean. If I shut my eyes, all I would see was the man's dying face. I hadn't known his name, hadn't even known what he wanted. I was just acting to defend myself, that was all. He would have killed me.  
  
I ran until I crashed into something.  
  
"Careful with that, mate," slurred whatever I had crashed into. By the bleary light of a hopeful street lamp I saw twisted dark hair and a gold grin.  
  
"Jack?" I croaked.  
  
"Will? That you, mate?" He picked me up beneath the arms. "Ye look like shit, mate. Come on inside." He dragged me into the smoky room and sat me on a chair. "We've been waitin' for ye, Will."  
  
"I killed him," I whispered. I couldn't look Jack in the face. The sound and light were assaulting my senses so I could hardly think.  
  
"Ye what? Don' worry, love, s'gonna be alright." Jack patted my shoulder in what I'm sure he thought was a comforting manner. "Can ye walk? Come on up tuh the rooms. Seamus's been waitin' for ye. Oh, look, speak o' the devil."  
  
I dared a look up from the floor. Indeed, Seamus and Maggie were approaching us. I tried to duck out of Jack's arms and escape, but he held me tight.  
  
"Will, what 'appened to ye, mate?" Maggie asked, worried. Seamus took Jack's spot, holding me up.  
  
"I killed him," I whispered again. I saw them exchange glances.  
  
"Come on, Will," Seamus said, leading me gently. "We'll talk upstairs."  
  
Somehow they got me upstairs. The next thing I remember, among my swirling thoughts, was sitting in a chair, being faced by Jack, Seamus, and Maggie.  
  
"Now, tell us what happened, Will," Maggie urged. All three of them, even Jack, looked worried.  
  
I swallowed, preparing myself. "I was stuck out in the storm. I must have lost my way, because I found myself in a place I didn't recognize. I stopped to ask a man for directions, but he punched me. He had a sword, and I was only defending myself, and I killed him."  
  
The last words were a rush. I looked anxiously at their faces. Jack, as usual, was grinning, though a punch from Maggie was enough to knock the smile off his face. Seamus was looking at me compassionately.  
  
"Well, he's a pirate now!" Jack exclaimed, nursing his sore jaw.  
  
"Quiet!" Maggie hissed. "Have you not a hint of sympathy in you? The poor boy's scared to death. Come here."  
  
I obeyed, kneeling before her. Gently, she cleaned my split lip with a wet cloth. It stung a bit, and I flinched.  
  
"Battle wounds, boy," Jack said. "Don't be ashamed or nothin'. I'm sure 'e deserved it."  
  
"I didn't mean -" I began to say, but Maggie pulled me to face her again.  
  
"Keep still," she said in a no-nonsense tone. "There. Ye should be all right, Will. That'll heal in no time. Jus' be sure to get some sleep tonight." I think she glared pointedly at Seamus.  
  
"Speakin' of sleep, Maggie love," Jack said as he threw his arm around her shoulders, "we'd best be retirin' as well."  
  
She nodded, and I saw for the first time the dark shadows under her eyes. She and Jack exited the room with a small "good night." Then Seamus and I were alone.  
  
There was silence for a bit. I didn't know what to say. I was still in shock after having killed a man, maybe a bit afraid of what would happen as a consequence, perhaps a bit disgusted with myself. I might even have been angry with Seamus, for not being there to help me when I needed it. But that was a childish thought.  
  
Without warning, he was embracing me. "You're safe, you're safe," he murmured into my hair.  
  
"Yes, I'm safe," I answered, returning the embrace.  
  
"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Seamus asked, examining my face. "You'll have a shiner tomorrow, that's for sure."  
  
"Battle wounds," I said wryly, echoing Jack. "No, that's all. I think I killed him before he could do any more damage."  
  
He stared right into my eyes. He had my chin in his hand. "It's easy for me to forget how innocent you are. You've never killed before."  
  
"No." A memory rushed to me: the soft feel of his flesh against the sharp point of my sword, the pained, pitiful expression on his face as he died.  
  
"I know it's hard," Seamus said sympathetically. He was frowning beautifully. "It's never easy to accept, the passing of life. Especially if you're the one taking it. But what's done is done. And I agree with Jack. He won't be missed."  
  
He kissed me carefully, avoiding the cut on my lip. "You should go to sleep," he whispered.  
  
I followed him to the bed. He stripped me of my soaking clothes, just like he had after we had been caught in the storm, then carefully set me on the bed. But when I closed my eyes, I felt the shadows. There were nightmares threatening at the edges of my vision, promises of spilled blood and death screams.  
  
"Don't leave me," I begged him.  
  
He smiled over his shoulder at me. "I'm not leavin', mate. I'll stay right close, all night. But ye need tuh sleep."  
  
"No problem with that," I yawned, settling further into the blankets.  
  
"Will," he said, and I detected something new in his voice. It sounded as though he was going to share a wonderful secret.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Didja notice anythin' - diff'rent - about Maggie tonight?"  
  
"Well, she did seem tired. And irritated. But she's always irritated. Why?"  
  
"Jus' wonderin'." His eyes glittered with that familiar mischievous smile. "Ye wouldn't know the signs yet. Maggie's with child."  
  
I nearly leapt out of bed. I certainly turned around to look him in the face.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Maggie. She's gonna have a kid."  
  
"What? I mean, Jack's?"  
  
" 'Course, mate." His grin sparkled. "I'm gonna be a uncle!"  
  
I couldn't help a stifled chuckle. "You're terrible, Seamus."  
  
"That's why we're goin' back, eh? So's Maggie can have her kid at home." He slid under the sheets next to me. "Ye'll like it, Will. It's a beautiful place." His eyes began to close.  
  
"Don't tell me the unstoppable Seamus O'Riley is tired," I said, taking his hand in mine.  
  
"Well, jus' think about all I've gone through in the past few days." He began to count off on his fingers. "I recovered you, went drinking, killed five men, had a wild night last night," - he grinned at this - "saved you from hanging, got arrested myself, got broke out, an' the next time I see you, you've just killed a man. On top of it all, my sister's pregnant with the child of a pirate. I think I have the right to be a bit sleepy."  
  
"Hmm," I sighed, closing my own eyes.  
  
He kissed me lightly on my forehead. "Good night, Will."  
  
"Night, Seamus," I muttered before falling into sleep.  
  
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You guys already know how sweet I write. I still amaze myself. I was reading this interesting sci-fi story the other day about this place you can go and you give them a set of guidelines, like how you want your person to look and act and stuff, and they manufacture them for you. I want to do that with Seamus. Then he could be like my little Barbie doll and I could play with him all day long.  
  
I should start selling Seamus Barbie's. They would sell like hotcakes.  
  
Anyways, why are you still listening to me rant! Please get on that little review button and wear it out! Let's go for 50 reviews! Come on, people! 


	12. Reunions and some New People

I didn't mean for this chapter to be so long! I just had to find a good stopping point, and it was like 6 pages into the damn thing, so I thought I'd give you guys a nice long chapter.  
  
Let's do math. 2 reviews + 30 reviews = 32 reviews, right? Which is not = to 50 reviews. Well, you only had one day, I can forgive you. Thank you, Kasis. Thank you, Scarlett. Better than Seamus Barbies would be Seamus /life-size! / Barbies, no? And yes, Maggie's preggies! Just wait! And don't try to do the math about the probability of it being a werewolf. In my world, anything that has a werewolf for a parent is automatically a werewolf.  
  
If you didn't understand a word of what I just said, GO READ "JACK SPARROW'S STORY!" ALSO BY ME! JUST GO TO MY URL! IT'S RIGHT THERE! I'VE GOTTEN 0 REVIEWS (except from Kasis, thank you Kasis) FROM MY STEADFAST DCMS CREW!  
  
Hmm, thinking of a bath scene later on. How hot and heavy should it get? Who wants to see Seamus on top? As in fucking Will?  
  
It should go without saying that I own all unfamiliar characters (and there are lots of 'em in this chapter. Hold onto your pants, kids, it's going to be a bumpy ride!).  
  
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I yawned. Seamus had awoken me early the next morning.  
  
"Got to sail early in the day, mate," he had said. "Must catch the tide."  
  
So we snuck out the window and across the roofs until we were far enough away from the inn that we would not be noticed.  
  
"One thing ye 'ave tuh learn, Will," Jack had said to me, "is pirates never pay when we can avoid it."  
  
So we had gone through a great deal of trouble to avoid paying the innkeeper, which I thought was a very stupid and inconsiderate thing to have done. We had hurried our way along the docks to where the Black Pearl swayed drunkenly in the gentle breeze. Within a short time the crew had returned, and we were off, back on the open sea.  
  
So I found myself lounging on the railing as the fastest ship in the Caribbean bulleted over the waters. Seamus sat next to me, balanced on the rail, carefully stitching a ripped sail. The air smelled beautiful and salty, and finally I began to relax. I felt the most wonderful sense of belonging as I had not felt since I had left the ocean. There were the dolphins, and the flapping of the sails, and some rowdy sailors' tune behind me, and the retreating cries of the gulls, and I was at home.  
  
~  
  
It was a grueling journey; there is no one in the world that can say that crossing the Atlantic is easy. We went eight weeks without bathing or fresh food, and it was difficult. I can only imagine how hard it would have been had sickness struck or had we run out of food, or any number of terrible things that I had heard tell of.  
  
Despite the difficulties of the journey, it was the freest time I could ever remember. I had no responsibilities beyond helping the other sailors keep the ship on course. I answered to no man, except my captain, and that was only once in a while. There was one time when Seamus spied a ship from his post in the crow's nest. It was a heavily laden merchant ship, and we set out to "redistribute the wealth," as Jack had called it.  
  
By the end of the trip, Maggie was beginning to look round. At first I had doubted what Seamus had told me; Jack seemed nearly as unlikely a father as Maggie a mother. But the evidence soon began to pronounce itself. It was sweet to watch him fuss over Maggie, refusing to let her climb the rigging or lift anything heavy. While she snapped back at him, I saw love in her eyes. Jack Sparrow, the improbable lover.  
  
Well, Seamus and I didn't get to much fun during that voyage. We slept in the crew's quarters, each in his own hammock. The movement of the hammock was actually calming, once I got used to it. But I felt an empty place next to me. He promised me, with a steely glint in his dark eyes, that "as soon as we get off this boat, I'm getting you in bed."  
  
So, salt-streaked and smelling none-too-fresh, we cheered when land was sighted. We made our way into Marseilles, the famed French port. Jack had ordered the removal of the Jolly Roger, proclaiming we wanted to make friends of these people for using their docks. Seamus looked at me. He was grinning his hardest from where he stood next to Maggie. Maggie, who folded her hands protectively over her belly while managing to look overjoyed.  
  
We stepped off the gangplank, and suddenly the world was still. I experienced a bit of nausea as I noticed the ground beneath my feet was not swaying.  
  
" 'S'allright, mate," Jack said, patting my back. "Ye'll get yer land legs back in a few days. Come, come, we've got to go if we're gonna be there afore night."  
  
"Where?" I asked.  
  
"Home," Maggie sighed from behind me. "Come on, Will."  
  
And so I followed. It was difficult enough. We wandered through the marketplace of the port town, and every other booth was a distraction. Food or weapons or fine china or spices from India; there was everything you could dream of. Unfortunately, I knew at most three words in French. It was uncomfortable to have people shouting at me and to be unable to answer.  
  
Jack released the rest of the sailors to shore leave. Somehow, we found a place that sold horses, and I was handed one. I had never ridden a horse, and I didn't know what to do with the large, smelly animal nibbling at my collar.  
  
"It's like that donkey you had, Will," Seamus said. "Only bigger." He gracefully swung himself up onto his horse.  
  
"Well, here goes," I said to myself, trying to mimic him. I nearly slid off the first time, but on the second try I was able to stay on. I clung tight to the creature's neck.  
  
"Good boy, Will," Maggie said, helping me up. "There you go. Just keep your balance, and we'll be alright."  
  
"Thank you," I said, grateful.  
  
With that, we started off. Soon enough we were out of the market, then out of the city, and I was able to admire the landscape around me. We were no longer in the Caribbean. It was the middle of January, and it was cold. I hugged my jacket tighter around me. There was a slight frost crunching beneath my steed's hooves, and our breath steamed in the air. We were walking down a well-traveled road lined with pine trees. The sky overhead was gray and threatening. However, there was a wonderful, peaceful serenity in the silence. The only sounds were the soft plodding of our horses, the only smell the sweet, unfamiliar pine. I even got used to the horse, after a while, though I could feel it rubbing on my hipbones. I wasn't going to be able to sit down for a while.  
  
"Maggie!" Seamus cried, spurring his horse on. She gave a gleeful cry, then raced after him. They darted down the road, quicker than birds.  
  
"They do that, sometimes," Jack said. I was surprised to find him next to me.  
  
"Where are we going?" I asked again. Perhaps I could get a more direct answer out of the pirate.  
  
"Home." Maybe not. "There's this place, see. An' ye won't find it on a map, cuz it isn't there. Ye 'ave tuh know where ye're goin' tuh get there."  
  
"Like Isla de Muerta," I suggested.  
  
Jack shook his head, with much clinking of trinkets. "This place isn't evil, Will. It's . odd. We're goin' tuh meet the family. They're characters, they are."  
  
"Family?"  
  
"Aye, family. Cousins, mostly, er that's what they'll tell ye." He winked at me. "They'll like you, mate. Didn't like me so much."  
  
"You've been here before?" I asked, incredulous.  
  
"Yep. Maggie brought me here, a few years back. But like I was sayin', it took a bit fer me to win 'em over. Considerin' I'm Jack Sparrow, that's amazin'."  
  
We fell back into silence. Little time had passed before Seamus and Maggie came galloping back. They were red-cheeked and smiling, and it made me happy to see them that way.  
  
"I'm so happy to be home!" Seamus exclaimed to the sky. A few birds were disturbed and took flight. He laughed.  
  
"Here we are," Jack said to me in an undertone. I hadn't noticed when we had turned onto a lane that was conspicuously less traveled than the road. Ahead of us loomed a comfortable looking house. It looked old and big, but oddly not intimidating. Seamus smiled like a beacon, stepping up to ride beside me.  
  
We got a little closer, and we leapt down from our steeds. Well, they leapt. I sort of fell. The animal sniffed again at my hair.  
  
"Hey!" came a shout from above us. Suddenly, a blur of red and black crashed into Seamus. I managed to keep my balance, looking back to see what this was all about. A beautiful red-haired woman dressed all in black was embracing him tightly. I felt a little wriggle of fear in my belly.  
  
She was murmuring something in French, and he was answering in the same language. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and realized it was Jack's. He smiled compassionately at me. The woman turned to Maggie, embracing her as well. She shouted at the house. I gulped nervously.  
  
People began to emerge from the house. At first they stood, pointing and talking among themselves. Then, slowly, they began to file over. One after another Seamus was enveloped in an embrace. He certainly was loved around here. I stood off to the side with Jack, who just smiled at the whole thing. I felt plainly out of place. All of these people were, well, they were beautiful.  
  
Finally, a woman came out, accompanied by a man. She had gently curling black hair falling far past her waist and even over the distance I could see her glittering green eyes and sun-browned skin. The man had curly red- brown hair and kind eyes. They seemed to carry an air of authority with them, and the small crowd parted to let her through. She grasped Seamus as though she would never let him go, going so far as to run her fingers through his hair. I have to admit, my thoughts at that moment were not the kindest.  
  
Then she stepped back and looked at me. She was the first one to look at me. She asked Seamus a question.  
  
"Nama," he said, turning back to me, "this is Will. Will, this is -"  
  
She cut him off. "Please, call me Simone." She had a lovely voice, kind and full of both passion and compassion.  
  
"Simone," I whispered, remembering my manners and bowing. "It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady."  
  
"Please, get up," she said, taking my hands. I towered over her when I stood full height. "I won't tolerate such worship, especially not from Raoul's friend."  
  
She grinned. Oh, yes, she was related to Seamus. She had that same quirky smile. But Raoul?  
  
"It's me, Will," Seamus explained. "That's my name here. Oh, and this is Marlon." He gestured to the man.  
  
"Pleased to meet you," he said, shaking my hand. "Welcome to our home."  
  
"I'm happy to be here," I said. I was feeling a bit breathless. It was all happening so quickly.  
  
"Papa!" shouted a smaller voice. Seamus glanced over his shoulder, and I saw the beginnings of another grin before he was tackled to the ground. I felt like my stomach dropped to my knees as he played and chattered with the little blonde-haired person. At last he stood, hair mussed, clothes dirty, the happiest I'd ever seen him, the little person in his arms.  
  
"Will," he said excitedly, "Will, this is my daughter, Callie."  
  
She had his smile as well. I saw his black eyes in her little swarthy face. Her little arms were wrapped around his neck from where she sat on his hip.  
  
"Hello, Callie," I said gently.  
  
She giggled, then put her face into Seamus' shoulder. "She doesn't meet many strangers," he explained.  
  
"Come on!" he shouted to the group. "Let's let our guests inside." We followed him inside. I looked back, once, and saw Simone fussing over Maggie and Jack. I felt somebody grab my hand. It was Seamus, giving me a reassuring glance. I nodded, squeezing the hand. It was comforting.  
  
The happiness of the people around me was infectious. I soon found myself smiling. We seated ourselves in various random pieces of furniture in a room lined with books and lit with sconces; I chose for myself a particularly squishy couch, somehow next to the red-haired woman who had first seen Seamus.  
  
She gave me a bright smile. "I'm Gayle. I'm Raoul's cousin, though I suppose you're used to calling him Seamus."  
  
"Nice to meet you," I replied. "My name is Will. Will Turner."  
  
She nodded. "Guillaume Tournier," she said. "That's what it might be in French. But I think Will suits you better. So you came with Jack and that bunch?"  
  
"Yes. I've known Jack for a little more than a year now. I suppose we're friends. It's amazing, my lady. I mean, you have wonderful English."  
  
She laughed. "Oh, thank you. I haven't spoken it in a long time, but when you have as much time as I do -"  
  
My stomach grumbled loudly. She opened her eyes widely. "Oh, poor dear!" she exclaimed. "You must be starving!  
  
"Simone!" she called across the room to where Seamus and Simone were conversing. "Simone, we have to feed these people!"  
  
"Oh, really, don't trouble -" I started to protest.  
  
"Nonsense. You've been months without a good meal. Come." She dragged me by my hand into a dining room. There was a long table, seating about twenty people, and we just fit on it. "It's not going to be much, we weren't expecting company, but you are welcome to it."  
  
But it was a wonderful dinner. The first course was a dish of greens dressed with oil, then later a warm stew thick with potatoes and beef. The meal ended with some dried fruits and cream. Certainly not what I was used to eating, but delicious and filling all the same.  
  
And there was no shortage of conversation. I was seated between Gayle and a dark man, whose name I discovered was Reuben. He had skin so near to black that his eyes were ghostly; they shone with golden fire. Seated between two such vibrant characters, I felt at first intimidated. But they soon had me enrolled in a wonderful conversation. Even Sachiko and Iakobos, a little Asian woman and a strong-looking Greek man, joined in from across the table.  
  
This was quite a cultural mishmash. I was slowly introduced to all of them, and I marveled that they lived together. Sachiko and Kiyoshi were from the faraway legendary place of Japan. Iakobos was, of course, from Greece. Siti and Reuben were from Africa, as evidenced by their dark skin, though they assured me they were from very different areas. Isaiah and Sarah were from the fabled "Holy Land." Marlon, Simone, Seamus, Callie, and Maggie were all from France, or so they said. Javier, Lilia, and Nuela were all Spanish. Lenka was robustly Russian, Dorran darkly Pictish, and Gunter a stark German. Lastly was Ambika, from India. Faces of more ethnicities than I had ever even known there were in the world surrounded me. It was overwhelming to the senses to see skin of so many colors, eyes of so many different shapes. They all had very good English, but each was faintly tinged with their mother tongue. It was a beautiful scene.  
  
I looked from time to time over to Seamus, who sat near the other end of the table. Callie was perched on his lap, accepting what food he gave her. She did seem a sweet and well-behaved little girl, perhaps ten years of age. I hadn't had much experience with children, but I thought she was likeable enough. And if she was Seamus' daughter, well, there was no choice then.  
  
Slowly, the dark-lashed eyes began to close, and Seamus excused himself to retire the sleeping girl on his shoulder. I felt oddly vulnerable without his presence.  
  
"So Will," began Simone from her end of the table, "where are you from?"  
  
"Portsmouth, originally," I said. All eyes were on me. I felt as though under interrogation. "Then, when my mother passed away, I went to the Caribbean to find my father."  
  
"I knew 'is dad," Jack said from his seat. "Good man. Sailed with me for many years."  
  
"Ah," Simone sighed, thoughtfully. She turned that green gaze back to me. "Pirate, then?"  
  
I swallowed. "Yes."  
  
Gayle elbowed me in the ribs. "Don't be so nervous," she said. "She's only testing you out. It's not as though we'll burn you at the stake, Will. After all, Jack's a pirate."  
  
Said man must have heard us, for he gave us a brilliant gold grin.  
  
"But I was apprenticed as a blacksmith for a number of years," I continued. The eyes began to look more interested. "When I came to the Caribbean, I became an apprentice to John Brown, the blacksmith at Port Royal."  
  
"So you know something of weapons," Sachiko said amusedly. "What do you think of this?"  
  
She pulled a long, straight-built sword out of a scabbard at her waist. It was etched with characters, what I assumed was Japanese.  
  
"It's beautiful," I said. It was. I could almost hear it hum in the still room.  
  
"Oh, no."  
  
Seamus had reentered the room. He stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, staring between Sachiko, Simone, and myself with an exasperated smile on his face.  
  
"Not the sword already, Sachi?" He shook his head. "Come on, Will, let me save you before she gives a demonstration."  
  
I rose, and a few others rose with me.  
  
"It was very nice to meet you, Will," Marlon said.  
  
"Good night, Will," was chorused over the table. I blushed a little as Seamus led me out.  
  
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Wow, really long chapter. I hope you aren't bored. Will repeat above questions: how heavy should the bath scene be? Should I have Seamus dominating for once? I hate to see him so submissive all the time, and Will is just begging to be fucked. Ooh, nice mental image. Heck, they're all nice mental images.  
  
Anybody out there read the Iliad? Orlando Bloom's gonna be Paris. Paris is the stupid pretty boy who starts the whole damn Trojan War. No, not the war over condoms, the war over Helen, the most beautiful girl in Greece. This angers me. This will be his third stupid pretty boy role in the past few years. Well, Elves aren't that stupid, but /still/ angry with PJ making him blond. Grr. 


	13. Seduction in a New Home

Interesting comments I got from that last chapter. So far, only Scarlett has commented on the fact that Seamus is a WEREWOLF, although it hasn't been too much of an issue. It will be. Look out, angst ahead.  
  
But not for a little while. I wanted a little bit more smutty stuff between Will and Seamus for this chapter. I do think you'll like it.  
  
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"I think they like you," he whispered in my ear as soon as we were alone in the dim hallway. "What do you think?"  
  
"They're very nice." I didn't quite know what to say. "It's a bit overwhelming."  
  
"I understand. Don't worry, you'll get used to it all."  
  
He opened the door to a room and let me in. It was lit only be moonlight pouring in through the uncurtained window. There was enough light to tell me the room contained a sizeable bed, a desk, numerous bookcases, and a trunk.  
  
"This is your -"  
  
I was interrupted by the sudden presence of demanding lips on mine. I didn't complain as Seamus' mouth ravaged mine thoroughly. It appeared he had been waiting for this for as long as I had. Absence does make the heart grow fonder. He tugged my hips close to his, while I pulled his head closer to mine to deepen our kiss.  
  
"I thought I'd never get you alone," he gasped. "You're brave, Will. Usually Simone has them in either tears or sullen silence by the time she's through with them." The words were intermittent, punctuated with groans as we rediscovered our bodies.  
  
"Your daughter is beautiful." His hands ran up my back.  
  
"Oh, yes." His hands stopped. "I'm sorry, Will. Perhaps I should have told you better what to expect when we arrived. You've been so uncomfortable all afternoon."  
  
"I didn't mind that much," I protested, showing him as best I could with my hands. "Your daughter really is very lovely."  
  
"No funny ideas, now," he said with a chuckle. I took his shirt off. "She's my baby, Will." He bit at my neck. "Wouldn't want to corrupt her innocent mind." Somehow my shirt had been removed, and he dragged me by my pants to the bed.  
  
"Seamus!" I gasped as his fingers began to remove my pants. "Oh, God!" Waves of wonderful sensation passed through my body.  
  
"Not quite," he answered.  
  
The fingers stopped. I nearly cried out at the loss, but then I saw what Seamus had done. He was naked as a jaybird, lying in the most provocative position across the bed. He had one arm tossed wantonly over his head, leaving his smooth chest gleamingly bare. Legs parted just enough to bring me stumbling over to him.  
  
"Let me make it up to you, Will," he whispered. I was naked. "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable in my house."  
  
One swift move and I was in the bed, and he was on top of me. What delicate torture. I could feel his hips against mine, and pressed against him.  
  
"So young, so eager," he murmured against my ear. He was undoing me.  
  
"Your house?" I asked, barely within the realms of coherency. "I had gotten the impression Simone ran things around here."  
  
"She does, when I'm gone." He kissed my collarbone. "But I am the master of the house."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I am strongest." He stopped his work, resting his head on his forearms, which in turn rested on my chest. He looked at me with those black-on-black eyes. "Do you doubt it?"  
  
"Not at all." I think he let me flip us over. He watched me, eyes alit, as my lips made their way down his torso. He frowned questioningly, wondering what I was doing. I smiled in reply. I had wanted to try this.  
  
When my lips hit their mark, he threw his head back as his body arched beneath me. His fingers coiled into my hair, urging me on, as I experimented with this newfound source of pleasure. He truly writhed; I had never gotten him so powerless before. Raspy quiet moans were my reward, his legs around my shoulders, his hips beneath my hands. I stopped before he could spend himself.  
  
Side-by-side again, he took my face in his hands. He was panting fiercely, eyes glowing.  
  
"What was that? I didn't teach that to you!" he said in a ragged whisper. "Been playing around, Will?"  
  
"No." I kissed him, and he responded passionately. We were moving closer and closer to that fatal edge. "No, never. I was just testing it out. You are my first and only, Seamus." I laughed, as much as I could with his entire body pressed to mine. "You should have seen the look on your face -"  
  
"Shut up," he said, kissing me again. "Hurry it up, Will Turner."  
  
"As you wish," I said. And so we began our lovemaking again. It was long, and beautiful, and the best experience in the world. I forgot everything; there was only me, and Seamus, and the large soft bed we played in. It ended, and we both sort of collapsed, shuddering but happy. Seamus curled up to me, hands just around my neck. He made a low voice in his throat, sort of a purr and a growl. I kissed his forehead before surrendering to sleep.  
  
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Yes, that was oral sex. I've never really written oral sex before, so tell me how I did. I just don't want stuff getting too raunchy. I could watch them having sex all day . wait a second, I do! That's all they do, run around in my head and have orgies. And that's the way they LIKE it.  
  
Well, I've had a bid from Scarlett for a threesome with Jack. Probably in the baths. I've never written a threesome before, but it could be fun. So I'll write it, and if it's any good, I'll publish it. Unless you guys give me negative feedback, in which case it'll just be good ol' Will/Seamus.  
  
Also, the consensus seems to be that we want Seamus to dominate for once! Oh, goodie. I'm gonna make it really sweet, okay?  
  
Kasis: I will try desperately to fulfill all of your wishes. I've already mentioned I'm going for a threesome, right? Tell me how you think that'll work out on your steaminess scale.  
  
Scarlett: You cannot imagine the dirty images that leapt to my mind with your suggestion. I had to take a cold shower. You say you can't picture him being submissive? Hello, he's been submissive through this entire fic! But yeah! Finally some commiseration about blond Legolas! There is nothing in the book that specifically makes him blond! If you want to make him gay, make him blond, but make him dark if you want to leave it up to our imaginations. That's my rant.  
  
Keri: Thank you so much! Flattery will get you everywhere, my friend. Yeah, sorry about that cliffhanger. But if I put this in it would have been a very, very long chapter and I would have lost your interest, savvy? I hope you keep reading!  
  
Evala: At the moment, I'm in the middle of the aforesaid bath scene, and it's heating up! (Ha, how 'bout that!) Anyways, thanks for the review. I don't like to think that our dear Orlando is stupid. Ever seen some of the extended DVDs with his interview? He seems okay then. But anyways, enjoy the fic and let me know how you like it!  
  
And this parting comment: I was listening to Madonna's Ray of Light CD today and there's a song on there that I think perfectly appropriate. I think you have to listen to it to get the full effect, but I'll try to recreate part of it. The whole thing is way too long for my lazy self to type, so I'll put in some of the most important lines.  
  
Kiss me I'm dying/ put your hand on my skin/ I close my eyes.  
  
Touch me I'm trying/ to see inside of your soul/ I've got this thing/ I want to make a correction/ I'm not like this all the time.  
  
Lame attempt, huh? Well, I thought it captured the mood. So review already! What are you reading this for? 


	14. Author's Note

Hey, you guys! I'm sorry I haven't updated in a long time! My computer's being funky and deciding not to accept my floppy disks, which unfortunately have all my story on them! So I've been kinda stuck. But don't worry! It's getting fixed!  
  
Meanwhile, I've been plotting out the stories in my head. I have decided that Jack is /not/ participating in the bath scene (though for those who would want it, email me and I'll see what I can cook up). However, your wishes will be granted and for once (or maybe twice or thrice!) Seamus is gonna be on top!  
  
Gah, so many pop-ups! What am I gonna do? So annoyed . . .  
  
But I'll get to work as soon as I can on the new chapters! 


	15. Some Fun In the Bath

This is another one of those really long chapters that just had to be long. I couldn't make it short. Fun and lovin' ahead! You know, I tried to write a threesome, but then I just started feeling so bad for Maggie, so I had to make it just Will/Seamus. But like I said, if you really want a slashy version, give me a ring (email or review) and tell me you want it. I can send it to you.  
  
Do I really need to give you a disclaimer?  
  
I really should go write that English essay.  
  
You guys all know it's pronounced "SHAY-mus," right? It's Irish, of course. Hmm, can't think of anything else needing saying, except for THANK GOODNESS Seamus IS FINALLY ON TOP! Sorry, spellchecker is funny, Seamus can't be all caps. Too bad.  
  
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I made it my priority to wake before he did. I seldom got any chance to watch him sleep, and it was a beautiful thing.  
  
We had drawn close together in the night. The weather was a great deal colder here than it had been in the Caribbean, and despite the warm blankets, the spare bodies were what kept us comfortable. Somehow we had become arranged so his head was beneath my chin, his fingers curled beneath his neck. His pulse thrummed against my chest, his breath brushed airily past my ear. I sighed with contentment. Absently, I ran my fingers up his spine.  
  
He made a little grunting noise in his sleep, shifting slightly and licking his lips but not waking. I kissed him, as lightly as I was able, on his closed eyelids and cheeks. He began to move a little more, finally stirring from his slumber. He stretched lazily, eyes still mostly closed.  
  
"Will." Little more than a whisper and a smile. "Been awake long?"  
  
"No." I rested my face in his hair. "You slept a long time."  
  
"Musta wore me out last night." I felt him grin and kiss my neck. He laid his head back against the pillow, sprawling out his arm. "It feels so good to be back in my own bed."  
  
"I like to be in this bed also," I said.  
  
He sent me a playful glare. "What a handful you are. Always demanding, Seamus this, Seamus that. It's surprising I sleep at all." Before I could do anything else, he had leapt out of bed.  
  
I followed him, thankful for the rugs on the cold floor. He stood in front of a curtained window, hands on his hips and a frown on his face.  
  
"I should have known," he said. His voice had a tinge of anger in it. "She was here last night."  
  
"What?" I asked, confused.  
  
"Simone. She was here. She's the only one who would have dared. And I know I left these curtains open. Oh well," he sighed, and shrugged. "Take a look at this, Will."  
  
He threw open the drapes, and I gaped at what I saw. The house was perched on a stretch of low mountains blanketed with pine trees. The room faced east, and the sun rose like creation over the horizon. A heavy fog had settled around us, and the sun just barely peeked over its blue-grey curling fingers, staining them with gold. It was the sort of dawn made for poets and artists and bards. It sang with beauty.  
  
"Is it not wonderful?" Seamus asked as he put his hands around my waist.  
  
"It is the loveliest thing I have ever witnessed." All I could manage was a whisper. "I see why you wanted to come back. It feels like heaven."  
  
"And it is nigh the closest mortals can get, while still trapped on this earth. It is the most magnificent gift in the world to live another day. I am still learning to appreciate it."  
  
I looked at him. His gaze was unfocused, merely staring out the window at the beautiful scene before us. He had the look of a philosopher, the kind that has searched the world over for answers and finds them right in his own backyard. We might have been the only two people alive.  
  
I tore my eyes away from the view. By day I could more clearly see the finer details of the room. The bed was a very old antique, carven over with signs few living men could decipher. There were not only a few bookcases, as I had determined the night before. They lined the walls, crammed with books. There were some very old manuscripts, covered in dust and falling apart, as well as some newer additions. The desk was near as old as the bed, of the same fine make, and littered with papers and pens and ink. The rugs on the floor were a soft Persian make, and the drapes were heavy velvet. And the window was glass! Mostly, it was only the very rich who used glass windows much. All in all, the place gave an impression of exceeding wealth, not at all what I had expected when meeting the pirate.  
  
Suddenly, Seamus shook himself, interrupting my thoughts. "How would you like a bath?" he asked. "I suspect we both smell a bit questionable after two months at sea."  
  
"A bath does sound nice," I replied. I walked back to find my clothes. They weren't on the floor anywhere, and not on the bed. We weren't that wild the other night, were we?  
  
"Musta picked up our clothes, too," Seamus said with another frown. "I should tell her to stay out of my room. Especially when I have company. Here," he said, dredging something out of a trunk and tossing it to me. "Put this on."  
  
It was a simple robe, soft and substantial and warm. I pulled it on gratefully, not bothering to ask questions. When next I turned to look at him, he was in his own robe, and carefully untying that bandana that I had seen around his hair since first I met him.  
  
It was somewhat unnerving to see such an essential (I thought) piece of my lover simply be untied as though nothing. But I soon saw that it was not nothing, judging by the amount of reverence Seamus used in removing that small article of clothing. With his black silky curly hair unbound, he looked even younger.  
  
"Look at her, Will," he said. He held something in his hands. I stepped closer to investigate, and found myself looking at a small, detailed portrait of a lovely young woman. Despite the size, I could make out the sparkle in her soft brown eyes, the shine of the light in her cloud of golden hair, the amused twitch to her smile. He had been hiding this little caricature inside that faded bandana of his. It was sentimental, especially for Seamus.  
  
"Now I know why you kept that thing on," I said. "Your wife?"  
  
He nodded silently before kissing the little portrait and setting it on his desk. "Yes," he answered, looking back at me. His smile seemed sad. "Maybe we'll go visit her sometime, eh? Come on, this way."  
  
He led me down the hallway, now lit by the light leaking through windows set in the ceiling above us. At the end of the hall we turned right, walking out a door to another hallway. I saw a flash of red hair and brown eyes.  
  
"Good morning, Will," Gayle said as she passed us.  
  
" 'Morning," I murmured, watching her retreating form, clothed only in a towel and her dripping red hair.  
  
"Will?" Seamus had an amused smile on his face. "Want to follow her?"  
  
I blushed. "No," I protested. "I was only -"  
  
"You're not the first who's had his eye caught on her. She has broken many hearts."  
  
"You are lovelier." I shocked myself with my boldness. I nearly took it back, but then I saw his eyes crinkling at the corners in a smile.  
  
"I'm flattered. Now, come on." He opened another door, the one Gayle had come through, into a generous bathroom. A wooden planked floor surrounded a pool carved out of stone and rubbed smooth. The air was warm and humid, and I could smell the cedar the planks and walls were made of.  
  
Seamus gestured to the pool. "It's heated from a fire beneath," he said as he stripped off the robe. He kicked it away, bending to pick up a bowl sitting next to the pool. He filled it with water, then dropped it over his head. With that, he began to scrub his body clean with a bar of soap.  
  
My mouth became increasingly dry. The mere sight of Seamus naked was enough to make me forget everything else. But Seamus, /wet/ and naked, and alone with me in a bathroom - the world seemed to spin a little quicker.  
  
"Gonna wash, Will?" he asked. He handed me the bowl and some soap. So, swallowing the lump that had somehow appeared in my throat, I washed. It did feel good to clean away the grime that had been my constant companion for too long to remember. The soap was a bit rough, all the better for removing the brine of the sea.  
  
Seamus, finished with cleaning himself, dumped one more bowlful of water over his head, shot me a smile, and then began to sink into the pool. He sighed as he relaxed into the warm water, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the rim of the pool. I studied him.  
  
His features had always been sharp; he was a man of lean fat. But I had noted back in Port Royal that he had lost weight and a long trip across the Atlantic with admittedly less-than-nutritional food had wasted him more. He was reduced now mostly to bone and muscle. The bones in his face were all sharp angles, which made his eyes look even bigger and wider and darker. I could still see his ribs. His hair, still wet, swept over the floor. I thought, as I had when first I met him, that he indeed looked younger than I did.  
  
I shivered. I had forgotten that I was wet, and it was, after all, winter. I quickly rinsed and joined him in the pool. He opened his eyes when I disturbed the water. His wide black eyes glinted warmly as he tugged me close in an embrace.  
  
"You're nice to hug now that you're clean," he said.  
  
I put an arm around him, feeling his bony shoulder.  
  
"Seamus -" I started.  
  
Suddenly the door swung open. In burst a very happy-looking Jack Sparrow, singing an unguessable song at insane volumes. Seeing us, he stopped in the middle of his verse and gave us a wide, gold-toothed grin.  
  
" 'Ello, mates. Didn't know you was in here." He sat down, pulling his boots off.  
  
"Morning, Jack," Seamus said from where his head rested on my chest. He shifted. "Come to finally take a bath?"  
  
"Wouldn't miss it." Another grin. "Hope I'm not disturbin' anything."  
  
"Not really," Seamus said as he pulled himself upright next to me. "We don't mind, do we, Will?"  
  
"No," I said softly. Jack hadn't interrupted anything, but he /might/ have. I had a feeling he knew about what was going on between Seamus and myself, but I had no interest in giving him the satisfaction in knowing he was right.  
  
Soon enough he joined us in the water. Seamus sat between us, looking perfectly calm and carefree, just smiling at the two of us.  
  
"Well," he said, "I'm going back to sleep." With that, he laid his head back and closed his eyes. I chanced a glance at Jack, who was just looking at Seamus. So I settled back myself. The companionship was good, at least, for Jack was in one of his not-so-talkative moods.  
  
I had nearly fallen asleep when I felt Seamus shift next to me. Startled, I opened my eyes to see what was going on. Jack's mouth happened to be making its way along Seamus' shoulder. Seamus still had his eyes closed, but a smile was on his face; I could tell he was actually enjoying what was being done to him. I felt a rush of anger. Seamus was mine; Jack had no right to him!  
  
In retaliation, I began to kiss his neck. He gasped when my lips hit that special spot beneath his ear. His eyes flew open, and he put his arms around my neck. It was practically a reflex for me to lean forward and kiss him. We sighed together, and I felt his tongue enter my mouth. The kiss was long and wonderful and beautiful.  
  
I saw the glint of Jack's smile out of the corner of my eye and pulled away sharply. I felt my cheeks burning; I had never been a public sort of person about my feelings, and having Jack watch me kiss Seamus seemed almost obscene.  
  
"Jus' a bit o' fun, mate," Jack said. His grin had become a little less leering and a little more serious. "I promise."  
  
I looked back at Seamus. He nodded, stroking my cheek, before turning to Jack.  
  
It felt like my heart got stuck in my throat as I watched them kiss. Jack, the devil, who'd had more lovers than I cared to think about, and Seamus . Hell, Seamus had been married! I knew how much he knew about matters of the bed. They were so evenly matched, and they knew it, judging by the way they were going at it. I had expected to feel angry, wanted to feel angry, but instead I found lust heating my body at the beautiful scene before me. Seamus ran his fingers though Jack's tangled hair, and Jack pulled Seamus closer to him. I looked away, trying to regain my normal breathing.  
  
"I think he likes it." When I faced them again, they were both looking at me, all happy grins and sparkling eyes. It was Jack who had spoken. "D'ye like tuh watch, Will?"  
  
"He doesn't like to watch," Seamus said. "He misses me."  
  
"Very arrogant, Seamus. But I think he does like it. Look."  
  
I turned away and began to climb out of the pool. "I don't think this is a very good idea."  
  
"Will."  
  
Seamus had parted from Jack. He was looking at me with those dark eyes I dared not refuse, that I didn't want to refuse. I spared another glance at Jack. The kohl had been washed from his eyes, and he looked younger. He was handsome, if you looked beyond the mismatched jewelry and the unruly hair. Or perhaps that was part of his charm. There was that characteristic smirk on his face.  
  
"Knew ye'd agree, boy. Now, let's get tuh business."  
  
"Jack." Seamus stopped him in his tracks. "We should go slow."  
  
The pirate shrugged. "Slow's good. Let's go slow." Then, with all the lethargy of a striking snake, Jack Sparrow's lips were on mine. I nearly protested, but then I began to wake up to what that mouth was doing to me. It was hot to the point of burning, it seemed, requesting everything of me, demanding it. Tasting, dipping, swirling, sucking - it was wonderful. I had never thought of kissing anybody beyond Seamus, but Jack was warming me up to the idea.  
  
"Hmm, that was nice," he said as soon as he parted from me.  
  
"Jack," I muttered. I wanted him to finish it, to finish what he started!  
  
"Now, Will, pleasin' as that was," he said with a glint in his eye, "I have a little one tuh think about. So, if ye excuse me," he rose out of the pool and back to his clothes, "I think I'll have tuh decline the invitation."  
  
"I never thought I'd live to see Jack Sparrow turn down such an invitation," Seamus said from where he sat next to me. He wound his arms about my waist and put his chin on my shoulder, turning his dark eyes on Jack. "Sure you don't want to stay?"  
  
Jack paused in his dressing. His scarf was half tied around his waist, and he took on a thoughtful expression. "Well, now that I've been invited, leavin' doesn't seem too prosperous an option. If that's what ye're offerin'."  
  
"That's what we're offering," Seamus said. He began to run his fingers through my hair.  
  
"Seamus, I -" I began.  
  
"Shh," he said, putting a finger to my mouth. "You'll like this, Will." He kissed me again, and I surrendered. It seemed my decision had been made for me. And I was far from averse to the touch of his fingers, the gently demanding feel of his lips that was so unlike Jack's nearly brutal ravishment.  
  
"Wanna try somethin' new today, Will?" he asked. He looked beseechingly at me.  
  
"Like what?" I asked, unsure.  
  
"Like this," he answered, sliding a hand beneath me. I was suddenly aware that he was resting between my thighs, and not the other way around.  
  
"Oh!" I exclaimed, tensing. I knew well enough were this was going. "You want to do /that/? With /him/ here?"  
  
"Do you refuse?" His hands continued their search of my body, though I noticed he kept away from that certain spot until he had my approval.  
  
"Um," was all I could mutter. Well, maybe it was more of a moan. I grit my teeth to keep from crying out.  
  
"It'll be fun," Seamus promised. I didn't doubt it. Slowly I nodded my head, acknowledging my consent. He grinned and kissed me with all the lovely skill he possessed. Our lips mashed together, his tongue slid along my teeth in the most sensual, loving manner. I melted beneath him.  
  
"We should get out for this," he gasped when we parted for breath. "Trust me, I'll make this as pleasurable for you as possible, Will."  
  
"I'm sure you will," I said, squeezing my legs around him.  
  
He groaned. "Let me get out before you start doing things like that, Will." He lifted himself out of the pool and walked over to a cabinet. I followed him out, curious.  
  
"What are you doing?" I asked.  
  
"Making it easier for you," he said over his shoulder. He rummaged some in the cabinet, finally drawing out a small bottle. "This'll work. Lay down, Will."  
  
I complied. I have to admit, I was feeling more than a little nervous. I calmed myself by telling myself that I did this to Seamus, and he didn't complain. I would enjoy this . . .  
  
He knelt between my legs, that beautiful smile on his face. Then he was kissing me, rubbing me, stroking me to an inch of my life. I gasped for breath, heard myself moaning. The world had suddenly become very small, focusing only on my lover and me.  
  
The need for this insane distraction soon became apparent. I felt a finger /in/ me. It didn't hurt; it just felt a little odd. I shifted, trying to become comfortable. But he was stroking me, distracting me again, and then there was another finger. There was a bit of pain with that one, the slightest twinge.  
  
"Shh, Will," he said, smoothing the hair out of my eyes. "Relax."  
  
So I tried to relax my muscles as best I could. This felt decidedly strange, and I didn't know if I liked it. I was about to protest when the fingers twisted. They touched something, a nerve or something, and I was abruptly thrown into oblivion. I cried out at the wash of pleasure overtaking me, flooding my senses until there was nothing but those two fingers and what they did. Then there was another finger. The pain was forgettable in the pleasure. I pushed back on the fingers.  
  
"Now, Seamus," I whispered, with all the command I could summon. "Now!"  
  
"Pleased to oblige," he said. His voice was raspy.  
  
There was more pain. More pain than I'd thought there would be. I felt all my muscles clenching in revolution, refusing to admit this intrusion. But he held me, he calmed me, he smoothed my hair. And slowly, slowly, the muscles began to unwind, and the pain started to fade.  
  
"Ah, if you could feel what I feel now, Will," he whispered in my ear. "You're unimaginable!"  
  
He began to move, still slowly. I knew he didn't want to hurt me. And it did hurt. But then he angled his hips, and the pain became pleasure redoubled. I was responding to him with all my heart and soul, pleading him to go faster, harder, it felt so good, I was lost.  
  
He collapsed his head to my chest, breathing heavily. "Don't tell me you didn't like that, Will," he said. His lips brushed my neck. "If you said you never wanted to do that again, I'd surely die right here."  
  
I swallowed air in huge gulps, trying to gain my breath to speak. "Let's do that again," I muttered.  
  
His laughter hummed through my body. I felt the irrepressible chuckle rising in my own throat. We laughed until we were breathless again.  
  
"Will, I think I need another bath," Seamus said, sliding off me and back into the pool. "And best give me a few days to recover. That was amazing, Will. We will be doing that again, I assure you."  
  
I followed him, holding him around the waist and putting my head in his hair.  
  
"Very good." The voice startled me. I had forgotten that Jack was present. He was grinning at us with that gold-toothed smile of his. "That was fun, mates. Never seen anythin' like that before." He stood, wrapping that terrible bandana back around his head, and exited the bathroom, as calmly as though we had just been discussing the weather.  
  
I looked at Seamus. He had his eyes closed and a smile on his lips. I decided to brush off Jack's little eccentricies and make no matter of them.  
  
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Wow! Cold shower needed, eh? I swanee, this was the chapter that refused to be written!  
  
Hey, kudos if you can find the "You Can't Take It With You" quote in here!  
  
And the whole "swanee" thing is from Steel Magnolias. Go rent it! It's the best movie ever. I was Truvy!  
  
To all my reviewers (you know who you are, and so do i. I'm just a lazy bum who doesn't want to look up your names), thank you for the helpful reviews. You have no idea how much it helps me and inspires me to keep going with this. Grr, go read "Jack Sparrow's Story!" I haven't had a review for that in a long time!  
  
I have a new story up. "Unexpected Friendship." It's a little friendship thing with Aragorn and Legolas. I think my Seamus and my Legolas are really similar. Coincidence? I think not. Anyways. It's not slashy, but you can find it slashy eventually.  
  
Please review! 


	16. A Daughter's Help

Well, I didn't receive nearly as much feedback for that last chapter as I would have liked! Rest assured, those who wanted the threesome version, it is in the processes. This chapter is a history chapter, somewhat. Setting the scene, you know. But it's cute! Please review! I know more people are reading this than have been reviewing, and I'm ashamed of you!  
  
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So Seamus and I spent a few more blissful moments in the bath, until he shoved me out "before we get too wrinkled," he said with a wink. He led be back to his room. There, he inspected me.  
  
"Your shoulders are a little broader than mine. You won't fit my shirts. I'll be right back," he said, leaving me there, still damp, sitting on the bed. I wandered around the room, looking at the odds and ends all over the place. There were a few small statues that I decided looked Indian, a few sketches that looked vaguely Japanese, and some intricate jewelry that might have been Celtic. The majority of it I could not characterize at all. Seamus was surely well traveled.  
  
He came back, a bundle of clothing in his arms. "Here," he said, tossing me a shirt and pants. "These should fit. They're Marlon's."  
  
They did fit, though they were different from what I was used to wearing. Finer, I suppose. The linen of the shirt was assuredly softer than my own shirts, the pants a warm wool. There was also a jacket in the pile, just as warm and comforting. I watched as Seamus donned similar clothes, running a hand through his drying hair.  
  
"Much better!" he said. "Clean, dry, and warm. Not that you didn't warm me up quite a bit, Will."  
  
I blushed in response to his smile. "Is that how it will always feel?" I asked as I tied back my hair.  
  
"No," he said, embracing me. "No, Will, it will always be better. I promise. Now let's go eat. I'm hungry!"  
  
We had barely stepped out of the room when a little gold-crowned thing tackled Seamus again. A tired-looking Nuela followed Callie's tiny form.  
  
"She has not stopped talking about you the entire night, Raoul," she said, wiping the sleep from her eyes. "I'll let you handle her.  
  
"Hello, Will," she greeted me. "How do you like it here?"  
  
"Oh, it's very nice," I answered. "I enjoy this place very much."  
  
"Yes," she said, looking me over. "Well, now I have to sleep. I shall see you later!"  
  
Seamus had hardly taken note of her; it seemed he was far too busy with his daughter. They were playing together, talking softly in French. I heard my name once or twice, and she looked at me curiously. I smiled back, but she just giggled and turned back to Seamus.  
  
I wasn't quite sure what he said, but soon enough we were heading back down the hallway, Callie on his hip. Her bright hair was escaping its braid, revealing itself in sunshine curls. She had hair like the woman in Seamus' small portrait, her mother. But before I could feel left out of Seamus' little world, he took my arm in his, smiling at me. I appreciated it. I could feel he was being careful, so careful, to include me in this foreign life that he led.  
  
Breakfast was fun, to my surprise. All of Seamus' extended family was talkative, amusing people. It started off with Gunter demonstrating his ability in juggling a few wrinkled winter apples, one of which promptly fell into Javier's glass of water, spraying them both as well as Iakobos and Siti. All in all, it ended with a number of soggy people (me one of them) and an irate Sachiko, who ended the water fight with an abrupt swipe of her impressive sword. We managed to calm her down, but all through the rest of the meal we snickered into our porridge.  
  
I followed Seamus afterwards. He led Callie by the hand, and every once in a while she would look back to grin wildly at me.  
  
"Where are we going?" I asked.  
  
"To the kitchens," he answered. "I must see what's going on in there. They were having an interesting time, by the way Dorran described it."  
  
He opened a wooden door into a warm room. There was a fire pit and spit on one end, a few stoves, and a wide table. Lenka, Ambika, and Gayle were rushing around, tasting and mixing and adding. Seamus smiled in satisfaction.  
  
" 'Scuse me," Ambika said, pushing past me to a rising loaf of bread.  
  
"What's for dinner today, Lenka?" Seamus asked.  
  
"Tonight, I will make you all blintzes!" she exclaimed happily, waving a spoon around. Her pale hair whirled around her and her blue eyes blazed. "You have not tasted blintzes until you've tasted /my/ blintzes!"  
  
"She's been at the vodka again, I'm afraid," Gayle whispered in my ear. "But blintzes are her specialty. You will dine well tonight, Monsieur Tournier."  
  
Seamus poked around the kitchen a bit more, checking up on the women and what they were cooking. Gayle let me taste a bit of the sauce she had concocted, and I found it delightful. All too soon we were gone from that warm kitchen and outside.  
  
It was colder than it had been the other day. Our breath steamed in the early morning air. A rim of frost lay on the grass and the trees, and the fog had not yet lifted. It seemed we were walking through a cloud forest lined with the stately pines and firs. We had not walked far when we came to a slender young willow tree. It was bare in its winter attire, yet still strangely beautiful in its nakedness.  
  
"Here she is," Seamus breathed. "You can remain here if you like, Will. I'm going to speak to her."  
  
I knew, by the look on his face, who "Her" was. I sat on a nearby boulder, allowing Seamus to have some private time with his wife's grave. He knelt before the tree, speaking so softly to it that I could not hear what he said. Callie sat beside him, serious for the first time since I had met her. Her little head was bowed reverently.  
  
I didn't hear Simone approach and only noticed she was beside me when she spoke.  
  
"It was a sad thing, Will," she said. Startled, I turned to her. She was looking at Seamus, grief in her deep green eyes. The previous night she had seemed cold and distant, but now she was completely human in her sympathy for the father and daughter.  
  
"She was loved," I said uncertainly. Well, what is one supposed to say in this sort of situation? "She must have been a wonderful woman."  
  
"That she was, that she was," Simone mused, nodding her head. "The dead should not control the living so much, but alas, they still pull the little threads on our hearts. So we must say to ourselves, 'She is gone, she will not return. Best to move on.' It is good that Raoul has moved on."  
  
I nodded. I took the time to study her face. She looked no older than Seamus did, but her voice held that same element of studied wisdom. Where his eyes were large and the deepest black, hers were the most fathomless green, almost as the ocean is on a sunny day. She indeed looked like his cousin, for they shared the same delicately strong features, wide eyes, graceful brows, and curly raven-black hair. They made a lovely pair, they did.  
  
Seamus and Callie rejoined us at the boulder. His eyes only looked slightly damp, and Callie's smile was quickly shining through the earnest expression her face had held before. Simone smiled indulgently, as an aunt or grandmother will upon seeing their niece or grandchild, and asked her a question in French. Callie responded enthusiastically.  
  
Seamus laid a hand on my shoulder. "Someday, Will," he said, "you have to learn some French."  
  
"We will rue that day," Simone said with a laugh. She sat Callie next to me. The girl turned her ocean-black eyes on me; I nearly shied away from the intent gaze. "For on that day, dear Will, we shall no longer keep secrets from you."  
  
Seamus laughed as well. The gravity of the situation had lifted, I could tell, for his eyes no longer shone with tears, but with joy. "Will, would you mind watching Callie for a minute or two?" he asked me. "I have some catching up to do with Simone."  
  
I was dumbfounded. Me? Watch a child? And a little girl at that! I was the least likely person for the job. "Um, I -" I stuttered.  
  
"Just keep her out of trouble. You'll do fine." He kissed my cheek, then followed Simone out into the trees. I gazed longingly after him, then warily turned back to the girl. She was still watching me curiously. She asked me a question, and I sighed and shook my head.  
  
"I suppose it would be too much to ask if you spoke English?" I asked her, not expecting her to respond.  
  
But respond she did. "I speak English," she said indignantly. I cannot deny my mouth fell open in surprise. "Nama says I speak very good English. Usually I speak French, because I don't like English, but you asked me, so I am speaking English. My name is Callie. Papa tells me your name is Will. That's an odd name."  
  
"It's short for William," I answered. "Er, nice to meet you, Callie. I certainly am glad we can speak the same language."  
  
"My real name is Calandra, but it's too long, so people call me Callie. Is William too long for you?"  
  
"Yes." I was feeling somewhat overwhelmed to have this little girl interrogating me as such.  
  
"Papa was gone a really long time. I know where he was. He was with Jack! He was on a boat with Jack, and they brought you back. Do you know Jack? I like him. He's funny, and he smells strange."  
  
"Yes, I know Jack," I said. "My, are you ever quiet?"  
  
"Only when Papa says so. Jack never tells me to be quiet. The last time he was here, he gave me a necklace!"  
  
"I'm sure," I said under my breath. The little girl was a veritable ball of energy. She approached life with all the enthusiasm of one who has barely sampled it. "How old are you, Callie?"  
  
"Papa says I have almost twelve years. How old are you, William?"  
  
I smiled. Eccentric as the girl seemed, as the family seemed, there was no helping liking them. "I'll make you a deal, Calandra." She frowned at the use of her proper name, but gave me her full and rapt attention. "I shall call you by your nickname if you shall call me by mine."  
  
"All right," she agreed happily. "How old are you, Will?"  
  
"I am twenty years old."  
  
"Oh," she sighed. "Did you go on the boat?"  
  
I laughed to myself. This little girl, with all her wild golden hair and rapt black eyes, had somehow stolen my heart. I began to tell her all that she so desired to know.  
  
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long chapter, I know. Did I lose you somewhere along the way? I hope not. In the next chapter, we'll find out more about Seamus!  
  
I like Simone. She's my favoritest of my OFC's. ooh, just wait 'til you see what I have planned. Hee hee, evil smile. 


	17. Getting to Know You again

Sweet chapter, this one, and more feminine POV. All right? You all understand? This is Simone's POV, got it? No excuses, now. I've warned you. Will will return, never fear. My spellchecker is going crazy with that double word there. Uh, not much slash, but a lot of cuteness. Slash will return. On with this chapter!  
  
Oh yeah, one more little thing. Seamus is called Raoul in France, okay? So Simone will refer to him as Raoul. Just making sure you know Raoul = Seamus.  
  
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~ Simone's POV (okay?)  
  
I laughed as I took his arm. "That young friend of yours looks a little skittish with the prospect of caring for your daughter, Raoul," I told him.  
  
His black eyes twinkled. Oh, how I had missed his eyes! "Yes, and rightly so. She has grown to be a handful."  
  
'If only you had been there to see her grow,' I thought. Apparently, he had the same idea, for he suddenly became quiet. "It's not your fault, little one," I said.  
  
"She grows more and more like Jessie every day," he said with that wandering voice he sometimes used, as though I was no longer present. "I look in her face, and I see Jessie."  
  
"To be sure, she looks just like her mother," I said gently.  
  
The solemn, beautiful black eyes filled with tears. "I miss her so!" he exclaimed in a whisper.  
  
"Shh," I calmed, smoothing his hair. He bent his head until it rested on my shoulder. "Don't cry, little one. It will all turn out right, you'll see." And yet I wondered. Would the boy that Raoul had brought back be enough to staunch the flow of tears that splattered on Jessie's grave?  
  
~ flashback  
  
I peered out the door, wiping the tears from my eyes. The last wail of the birthing mother had been only a short time ago, masked by the cries of the newborn babe. Yvonne held her in her arms, shooting me a stricken glance. I knew what I had to do, but it would be the most difficult thing I had done in my life.  
  
Raoul paced the room, a frown on his face. He looked excited, impatient, worried, the very picture of a new father. He looked up at me as I emerged from the room. Emotions chased themselves across his face, and I very nearly gave up.  
  
"Is it over?" he asked, looking over my shoulder hopefully.  
  
"Yes," I said. "Raoul, you have a beautiful baby daughter."  
  
"But?" he asked as he caught the hesitation in my voice. "What is wrong? Why can't I see her?"  
  
I sighed. "Sit down," I told him.  
  
"No, I won't! Where is Jessie? I want to see her!"  
  
"Raoul!" I said, grabbing his arm. "She is dead. Jessie, she is dead."  
  
It broke my heart - no, it shattered my heart to watch his face fall. The color left it almost immediately. "Dead?" he whispered. "No, no, no, it can't be. No."  
  
"I'm sorry," I said, knowing how little it served to soothe him.  
  
He turned from me, pounding his fists against the wall. He just leaned there, unwilling to move. I left my hand on his shoulder, offering what little comfort I could. I felt his body shake with sobs.  
  
At last he looked up at me again. His face was still pale, his eyes rimmed in red with tears. "Can I see her?" he asked.  
  
I nodded, letting him into the room. He knelt at her bedside, holding her death-cold hand. The room still smelled like blood. Without warning Gayle appeared at my side.  
  
"Simone," she said, and I could hear her sadness as well, "Simone, give him the baby."  
  
I looked at the newborn. She slept, her little features screwed up in sleep, her little hand curled under her chin. Silently I handed her over to her father. At last Raoul took his eyes off the dead woman.  
  
"You have a new life to care for now, Raoul," I said. He smoothed the blanket back, and he saw for the first time his daughter. He smiled tearfully. The child had awoken and was regarding him curiously.  
  
I left them alone. I could not stay in that room of death and sadness. Outside, in the hallway, I slid down the wall, letting the sobs overtake my body. One I had loved as a sister, as a daughter, had just passed on to a world beyond our reckoning. The sadness was overwhelming, and I cried as I have cried few times in my life. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked up into Marlon's reassuring face. I smiled through my tears. My older brother never failed to bring my spirits up, somehow.  
  
~ end flashback  
  
Raoul had spent every waking moment, and many sleeping moments, with his new little daughter. We buried Jessie beneath her favorite willow tree outside the House. I saw no more tears pass Raoul's eyes, but I knew that in his heart he still grieved for her. And as much as he was enamored with little Calandra, he could not be so close to the place that reminded him of his wife.  
  
So he had taken himself across the sea, to the faraway utopia of the Caribbean. Of course Yvonne had followed him; the brother and his sister were an inseparable pair. A year or two later they came back, and this time Raoul stayed. Seven years he stayed, for he loved his daughter with all his heart. Then he had left again. I had been asked every day, "When is Papa coming home?" I despised telling Callie that I did not know.  
  
Now, when she was nearly grown, nearly a woman, he came back. I was surprised that she still remembered him and still loved him; I might not have shared those feelings had I been in her position.  
  
We strolled through the forest for a while in silence. I had already heard most of his latest adventures from Yvonne; I did not need to speak to him of such paltry things. I merely absorbed his presence. I had missed him while he was gone. We then walked back to where the boy, Will Turner was his name, sat with Raoul's daughter. I was startled to hear laughter. Callie tended not to be very trusting, and young Will had not seemed too excited to be left in care of her. However, they seemed to have reached some sort of common point, and were laughing hilariously at something-or- other.  
  
"Papa!" Callie shouted, as soon as she saw Raoul.  
  
"Seamus!" Will nearly echoed her. They both rushed to meet him. Callie won the race and embraced Raoul around the waist  
  
"I like Will, can we keep him?" she asked him in French.  
  
"We'll see, little one, we'll see," Raoul answered with a chuckle.  
  
"Come now," I said to Callie. I pulled her away from Raoul and Will, for I could tell they wanted some time to talk. I sighed. I had peeked in on them last night. The light from the curtain left open illuminated the bed. Will's arm had been thrown protectively over Raoul, and Raoul's head had been tucked beneath Will's chin. It was a beautiful scene, and I pondered that perhaps, at last, Raoul was recovering from the death of his wife. I had closed the curtain and picked up the clothing strayed across the floor. Raoul had murmured softly in his sleep as I had kissed his forehead and smoothed his dark hair. In response, Will had tugged him a little closer. I clutched a hand at my heart to see such love.  
  
Callie and I walked back to the House. She chatted the entire way back about Will and Jack, and I reveled to see her purity and innocence. Yes, perhaps this boy would be good for all of us.  
  
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My poor characters, what I do to them! Well, how did you guys like that? I thought it was a pretty sweet chapter. Don't worry, Simone's character will shortly be explained. And all you people who are worrying about Seamus' future "lost mystery?" Just don't worry. I won't reveal much at all.  
  
Okay, what about Maggie's kid? Boy? Girl? Twin boys? Twin girls? Fraternal twins? I thought it would be cute for Jack to have a daughter, but I wanna know your opinions.  
  
Also, ahem, you might have noticed that I've departed from the Caribbean setting. Give me a ring if you want them to go back to the Caribbean! However, if they do go back, it won't be for a few years, cuz Jack's daughter has to grow up so she can come with them. If he has a daughter.  
  
So please review and tell me what you want! 


	18. The Lessons Begin

Well, here we are again! I've so far gotten 2 votes for a baby girl and 1 for twin boys. I was thinking of compromising; howsabout 1 girl and 1 boy? Lemme know what you think.  
  
Also, thanks so much to those of you who're reviewing! You know who you are. I haven't been talking much to you directly, but I do very much appreciate your support. I also got my first flames recently, both of which were surprisingly far into the fic to be complaining about slash. So hey, you no like slash, you no read slash, got it? Now you who are flaming me, I say, "You English kinnigets! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelled of elderberries! I fart in your general direction! Now go away before I taunt you a second time!" So there!  
  
On with the story!  
  
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~ Will's POV again  
  
I embraced Seamus when he had returned from the woods. "What did you speak to her of?" I asked curiously.  
  
"Nothing much," he replied. "Simone and I know each other too well to have much use for words anymore. Come," he said, putting an arm around my waist to lead me back to the house. "And you spoke to her as well? What did she say?"  
  
"She is as vague as you are, Seamus," I answered. "She spoke to me of your wife. Ah, Seamus, if you don't mind my asking, how did she die?"  
  
He didn't look at me, keeping his gaze forward. His pace did not even slow. Still, I felt his body tense beneath my hand. "It is a sad thing, Will," he said quietly. "You might never experience it. But it is a terrible thing. I feel as though I am responsible for her death. Jessie . . . died in childbirth."  
  
His mouth was set in that stubborn line. "Callie?" I asked gently. He nodded. "But her legacy is carried on, Seamus. Callie looks just like her, from what I've seen of Jessie. Except for her eyes. I think she got those from you."  
  
"Really?" He looked at me for the first time, and his eyes nearly carried the youth of Callie's. "Well, at least she got something from me. Keeps me from worrying about her paternity, eh?" He chuckled. His dark mood had passed, and he was Seamus again.  
  
~  
  
Sometime during lunch, I was separated from Seamus. One minute I was talking to Sachiko, the next I looked up and he was gone. I excused myself and went looking for him.  
  
I wandered down wood-paneled hallways. This house was definitely very large; indeed, it had to be to house so many people. Here or there would be a portrait or a landscape, a random pot of flowers, a window of interesting shape (few of them were square or rectangular). Doors were at irregular intervals. I longed to see what was inside them, but I had the feeling that quite a few of them held secrets not for my eyes. At last I came to an open door, and I could hear Callie's laughter from within.  
  
I entered quietly and gasped at what I saw. I was in an enormous library. The large room was filled floor-to-ceiling with books and manuscripts. There was a long table down the center, lit with warm lamps. Chairs were at the table, as irregular as the rest of the house; some were cushy leather armchairs, others plain wooden. Marlon sat next to Callie, Iakobos across from them. Seamus sat a few chairs down. He was scratching away with his quill at some document or another. I thought about clearing my throat to announce my entrance, but Iakobos noticed me first.  
  
"So young Will takes an interest in our library?" he said with his big voice. Seamus and Marlon looked up, both smiling to see me.  
  
"Good afternoon," I said to them. "I . . ."  
  
"Come on, sit down, boy," Iakobos said, gesturing to a chair between himself and Seamus.  
  
I obeyed. The room had a comfortable, cheery feel. "I hope I'm not disturbing anything."  
  
"Oh, no," Marlon reassured me. "Only Callie's lessons."  
  
At this point Callie looked up, a look of disgust on her face. "I don't like them," she said vehemently. "I think they're boring."  
  
"Yes, little one, we know," Seamus said from his work. "But how shall you grow to be an educated young lady if you are unable to read?"  
  
She huffed. "I can read. But Iakobos makes me read Socrates, and I don't like it. He was boring. And Greek is harder than Latin."  
  
I should have expected it. Of course a daughter of Seamus would have the oddest lessons. But I had never before heard of a young girl, or a boy for that matter, studying such intense subjects. Socrates was a mere name to me, one I had heard off and on in the company of aristocrats. I don't believe I had ever met anyone who could read either Greek or Latin, not even the ministers of the churches I had attended.  
  
"Will doesn't like Socrates either, do you, Will?" she asked.  
  
"I, ah, couldn't give an opinion," I stammered. They would think me an ignorant fool if I confessed how little I knew.  
  
"Would you like to learn, Will?" Marlon asked. His eyes were bright and soft, and his hair gleamed a reddish-brown in the lamplight. In the lines of his face, he was similar to Seamus and Simone, and I supposed he was another close cousin.  
  
"You would have much to teach," I replied quietly. "I'm afraid my education has been . . . neglected, to say the least."  
  
"Well, there's no time to start like the present!" He had eyes like Gayle's, full of laughter and friendliness.  
  
My knowledge was quickly determined, for there was not much to determine. I could write my name and I could read a bit, but the only book I had ever gotten my hands on was a Bible. Callie was delighted to take a break from her lessons and teach me how to hold a quill, as well as reviewing my alphabet with me. Strange as it was being "taught" by someone more than eight years younger than I, I found it oddly reassuring that Callie was my teacher. She was gentle and understanding, and made it easy for me to "study."  
  
So I was enthralled in my work until the call for dinner came. It was another exciting affair, made fabulous by Lenka's truly amazing blintzes. Callie and I speeded back to the library to continue, for it seemed she had found her calling in teaching me. When my fingers were stained with ink and cramped from unaccustomed use, she beckoned me to a couch and began to read to me. It was in English, fortunately; she said it was by somebody called Chaucer.  
  
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How'd you like it? Please let me know via the little review box!  
  
Grr, I'm trying desperately to type 1 handed cuz I'm holding an icepack to my face. Got those wisdom teeth out yesterday, you know? So send me reviews in my aching misery! 


	19. Is It Love?

Back again! I needed to get this chapter out so your Christmas present would make sense! (*wink, wink!) I think you'll like this one! I love Seamus POV, so here's some of that! Happy holidays, all! Your present will be posted tomorrow!  
  
~ Seamus' POV  
  
I peeked into the library, reluctant to disturb them. I smiled at what I saw. Will was somewhat sprawled over the couch and Callie rested her head on his shoulder, a book dangling from her hands. Both were asleep. The hour was late, and I picked Callie up from where she lay. She shifted in my arms, leaning her head on my shoulder.  
  
"Papa . . ." she said dreamily.  
  
"Shush," I said. "I'll take you to bed now." She murmured and fell back asleep. I walked down the hall to her room and laid her in her bed, tucking the sheets around her chin. I kissed her forehead. "Good night, sweet one," I whispered. I indulged myself in looking at her, absorbing her presence as best I might.  
  
After tucking Callie in, I returned to the library to collect Will. He was just awakening from his own sleep. He stretched and squinted at me.  
  
"I suppose I fell asleep, didn't I?" he asked blearily.  
  
"Come to bed," I said to him. "You will hurt in the morning, should you sleep on that couch."  
  
"What happened to Callie?"  
  
I smiled. Who would have thought that my lover and my daughter would find a friendship together? "She's asleep, safe in her own bed. And you need not fear," I said, lowering my voice. "Simone has promised that she will not disturb us tonight."  
  
I had to stifle my laugh as his eyes lit up. He was wonderful, this one; so young and eager and ready. I left the room, knowing he would follow me.  
  
However, I did not expect him to come running up behind me and throw me over his shoulder. I yelped softly in surprise, then released the laughter I had been holding within.  
  
"Put me down!" I told him jokingly. "You think I shall consent to be carried wherever you would take me?"  
  
I heard him laugh as well as he ran me back to my room. He opened the door, closed it, and pressed me against it. His hands held mine captive over my head. I smiled. But he didn't kiss me, just settled his forehead to mine until our noses touched. I could smell him so well, it was nearly overpowering. No matter how long he had been away from his forge the smell of iron and fire could not be removed, but with it was mixed something sweeter, earthier. He smelled like almonds. I like almonds.  
  
"You're still far to thin," he said to me, rubbing our noses. Ah, if he knew what that did to me! "You should eat more."  
  
"Yes, Mother," I replied, kissing his cheek to soften the blow. "I will eat more, if it makes you happy."  
  
"It would make me happy. But do you know what would make me happier?" He had that feral gleam in his eye, the sort of look that promised lots of fun for that night.  
  
"Need I guess?"  
  
Whatever composure that had been restraining him broke, and he kissed me with all the ferocity of a ravening hurricane. /That/ was what I treasured in him, the fact that he never lost interest, that he never gave it anything but his best. So I responded with my best. I do not know how I forgot Jessie in his arms; even Simone, Maggie, and Callie faded temporarily from my mind, and they were the three that I loved most in the world, not counting Will. It was wonderful, it was beautiful what he did to me. I saw stars. All that existed for me was the wooden door behind my back, the strong fingers snaking around my body, and the soft warm lips that pressed to mind so intently.  
  
"I want to make you forget," he whispered when we parted.  
  
"I do forget," I whispered back, biting at his neck. "Don't make me wait."  
  
We stumbled over to the bed, trying to kiss and walk at the same time and failing miserably. I began to undress, but he placed a hand over mine.  
  
"Let me," he said. There was no hesitation in my answer; I nodded, letting him place me on the bed. He unfastened my shirt with a patience and reverence that belied his eagerness. I tried to lie as still as I could as he pulled it over my head. I smiled as he stopped in his undressing. He never seemed to lose interest in examining my body, no matter how long we had been bedmates. I sighed as I let him strip me. Not such an easy thing to do, that. I was not renowned in the House for my patience. It seemed an eternity until finally I was naked, but still he did nothing, just laid his head on my stomach.  
  
"Enjoying yourself?" I asked sarcastically. His head rose and fell with my breathing. Stop smiling, Will. "Do you seek to torture me? Here," I said, gently flipping us over. "Let me repay the favor."  
  
I set to stripping him much more quickly than he had me. Even the most virtuous of us have our limits. I kissed him as I tugged his pants off. I felt his fingers dig into my back, and relished the touch. He bit at my neck, tenderly, carefully. It was somewhat ironic; he was as careful with me as I was with him, though neither of us really had reason to be. Well, I would show him. I arranged us so he lay between my thighs.  
  
"Now, Will," I pleaded him, as he had pleaded me earlier that day.  
  
He bit his lip, looking incredibly Will, and obeyed me. I ignored the pain, keeping my eyes locked with his. We flowed through that Oldest Dance, the one that there are songs about, that none but fools refuse. His eyes fluttered, threatening to close.  
  
"Keep your eyes open, Will," I managed to gasp. "Let me see you."  
  
Then there came the moment when there was very nearly nothing, when it seemed that the heavens swirled around me and the ocean pounded against my ears, when all you could do was hold your breath and hope that the tempest would blow itself out, and yet you wanted it would last forever. It was pure, unbridled passion, carrying me upon its crest, don't let me down Will, don't ever let me go, Will I love -  
  
No. The tempest had passed, Will had collapsed gasping on my chest, and I kissed his forehead. No, I don't love him. I can't love him.  
  
He was perfect where he lay, closely circled in the protection of my arms. Sweat-darkened strands of hair stuck to his face. His kind beautiful faithful brown eyes searched for mine and found them and he grinned. Don't do that, Will. It makes you look so young and innocent. It makes me resent bringing you with me, for in those terrible eyes that I would defend to the death I see potential and future, neither of which you will find with me.  
  
His breathing slowly became even and regular, and yet I held him. I didn't want to let him go. 'Savor him while you can,' whispered the little cold voice inside my head. 'One way or another, he will leave you, and you will be left cold and alone.'  
  
The full moon called to me. I put one more kiss to his cheek, whispering, "I won't leave you, Will."  
  
I meant it. Never in my life could I leave this angel come to earth, this blessed one sent to me. But there were some secrets that needed to be kept. I slid out the room; do not speak of stealth to a man who is a wolf. I spared one last glance over my black-furred shoulder back at my sleeping lover. Goodnight, Will.  
  
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You know, I really oughta get myself laid so I can write some realistic sex scenes. But how'd you guys like this one? I thought it was sweet! Even got a bit of bondage in there, eh? Please let me know what you want in Maggie's kid(s). Review please! 


	20. A Discovery and the True Nature Of Love

Happy holidays! Here's a present for you! Hope you like it, I know I did! Please give me feedback, be it positive or negative! Even the flamers couldn't hurt me now cuz I'm high on sugar and presents! I got the ROTK soundtrack, man! Woo hoo! Billy Boyd has some lungs, that I'll tell you! So please tell me what you think.  
  
ONE MORE THING: IF YOU HAVEN'T READ "JACK SPARROW'S STORY" BY NOW PLEASE GO READ IT. I'M AFRAID YOU'LL BE CONFUSED IN THIS CHAPTER IF YOU DON'T.  
  
SO GO READ IT ALREADY!  
  
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? AN INVITATION? READ IT!  
  
WELL, IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT BY NOW, YOU'RE OUT OF LUCK! ON WITH THE STORY!  
  
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My days fell into a recognizable pattern. I woke to find Seamus in my arms, usually awake before I. We went to breakfast, then on to the library to continue my studies. Callie was there; indeed, she was my main teacher. We studied until lunch, after which we might study some more, or watch the various members of the family practice their sword-fighting technique, or listen to somebody sing or read poetry. It was quite a lovely existence, and I was very happy.  
  
The only unhappiness came at night. Seamus escorted me back to his room where we made love, that part I had no complaints about. It was only afterwards that I found discomfort. I would fall asleep, and presumably he with me, but I would awake in the night to find him gone. The first night it happened I put it down as folly, rolled over and went back to sleep. By the third night in a row that it had happened, I was worried. Once or twice I tried waiting up for him, but always I found myself falling asleep again before he returned. And always he was with me again when I awoke.  
  
One night, I resolved to ask him about it.  
  
We had just finished making love, and it had been as magnificent as always. I was breathless and exhausted by the end, which perhaps made my words a little more direct and less discreet than they should have been.  
  
"Where do you go every night when you leave me?" I asked him, pulling him close. I felt him tense slightly.  
  
"Why do you ask?" he answered evasively.  
  
"I wake up sometimes and you are gone. I was just wondering where you're always off to."  
  
"Really." It didn't sound like a question.  
  
"Really, Seamus. I love you." I spoke before I realized the words were out of my mouth, and I didn't realize they were true until they were out. "I love you," I said again, as if to reinforce it.  
  
I don't know what I expected. Perhaps that he would embrace me and say he loved me too. Perhaps that he would push me away and tell me I was a fool. I never expected him to pull away silently, sitting up against the headboard of the bed. The curtains hadn't been closed that night, and moonlight washed over him in sheets, illuminating his noble profile, every strand of curly hair, every shadow thrown across his skin. He laid his hands on his bent knees; the sheets had fallen down to his waist.  
  
"Will," he said softly. When he looked at me, his eyes were sad despite the smile. "I think, dear Will, for two people to love one another, there should be no secrets between them. Now, I think I know most of your secrets, and those I don't know of don't matter. But I - haven't told you my secret.  
  
"Do you know much of magic?"  
  
The abrupt subject change startled me. I failed to see what magic had to do with anything. Secrets . . . what could he be speaking of? I shook my head, a negative response to his query.  
  
"It is a term used to describe what cannot be explained by science or rational thinking, what men try to understand and fail." He wasn't looking at me. "Will, I am something science doesn't explain."  
  
"I don't understand," I said with a frown. "What are you saying?"  
  
"I think it is best that I show you. Remember this now, Will," he said, now looking at me, pressing his face close to mine, "I would never hurt you. Please, don't fear me."  
  
With that, he crept to the end of the bed. Suddenly, he wasn't there anymore. In his place was a large black wolf, silently staring at me. My breath left my lungs in a rush and I scrambled up in an instinctual attempt to escape the predator eyeing me. I stepped off the bed, backing into a corner.  
  
"What are you?" I gasped, trying to make sense of all this. Where was Seamus, the one I loved, the one who protected me? Why wasn't he here to chase away this evil?  
  
He was back, looking the same as always apart from the forlorn expression on his face. "Will?" he asked. Same voice, but not the one I had known. No, where was my Seamus? "Will, please, let me speak -"  
  
"What can you say?" I asked. I flinched at the accusing tone in my voice. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Seamus, this is no small secret. Did you think that it would not be important, that I would not want to take this into consideration? You lied to me!"  
  
"Would you have loved me?" He didn't look at me; his eyes were fixed on the floor. But his voice was enough to convey all of his emotion: sadness, fear, regret . . . I did not care what else. "I wanted you to love me, Will. I am sorry, I can explain everything -"  
  
"No," I said. "Please don't, Seamus. I need to think."  
  
I dressed hastily and walked out of the room. What was I feeling? Frustrated, certainly. Betrayed. Lost. Disappointed, maybe. ~  
  
I didn't stop walking until I was in the library. I paced back and forth for a while, fists balled. I wanted somebody to blame. I wanted to wake up from this terrible nightmare in which my Seamus wasn't really my Seamus. I wanted everything back the way it was before -  
  
Somebody else entered the room, but I did not turn to greet them. Let them leave me alone in my misery. I nearly pushed off the hand that fell on my shoulder until I turned to see Simone's face. I grit my teeth, wanting to curse her for looking so much like Seamus!  
  
"Sit with me," she said calmly. I obeyed reluctantly, sitting next to her on the couch. She smoothed her skirts around her, waiting for me to speak.  
  
"I do not need to tell you what he showed me," I started slowly. I couldn't look at her. "I - I don't know what to feel. I am hurt and betrayed and uncertain, all at the same time, and I don't want to be. I suppose - I don't understand why he didn't tell me sooner."  
  
When next I looked back at her, she was regarding me seriously. She took one of my hands in hers. "It takes a great deal of trust and love to merit someone worthy of knowing our secret," she said. "Now, William Turner, I have been watching you these two weeks, even more carefully than you have been watching me. You are young and headstrong and sometimes foolish, but I believe you have a good and faithful heart. Seamus sees it as well, else he would not have told you.  
  
"A truer test of love there never was, Will. If you can love him now, as you did before he shared our secret with you, then you will have surpassed all expectations I had of you. When first I saw you, I thought you were a young, lustful boy who would not trust us after you knew what we were. I want so desperately to be wrong, Will. Prove me wrong and love him despite all that has happened."  
  
I was silent for a moment, collecting my thoughts. "I do love him," I whispered. "I could never stop, no matter what he did. He told me he wouldn't hurt me, and I believe him, that's not what's scaring me. It's just . . . what will he think of me now?"  
  
She was studying me again with those deep green eyes. "He loves you." She stated it like a fact, but I was still skeptical. "He loves you as much as you love him, perhaps more. I think he's frightened of that. He hasn't felt this sort of love since Jessie passed away, and he is wary of giving his heart away too eagerly. Don't hurt him, Will."  
  
"I won't, if I can help it," I said vehemently. Hesitantly, I embraced her. She hugged me back, which surprised me. "How is it you are so wise in these ways, lady?"  
  
She smiled that Seamus smile. "It is a mother's duty to know the ways of her son." "Mother? You're . . ." I gasped in amazement.  
  
"Of course."  
  
"That's why you look so much alike. But," I frowned in puzzlement, "you look so young! Forgive me."  
  
"There is nothing to forgive!" she said with a laugh. "Yes, I look young. We do not age as mortals do. We are all very old, excepting Callie. She is exactly as you see her."  
  
"A child born of love . . ." I whispered to myself. "Thank you, my lady. You have aided me much this night."  
  
"Anytime, Will."  
  
~  
  
My mind was whirling as I returned to Seamus' rooms. What should I say? What shouldn't I say? What if I do something stupid? What if he doesn't love me?  
  
The window was open, and the liner drapes were blowing about the room with their white, spectral forms. I shivered and pulled on my discarded jacket. Sure enough, there were footprints outside the open window. Taking a deep breath, I followed them to a tree. The night sky was glittering with stars like diamonds; that was why it was so cold. My breath became fog as it left my mouth. Up in the tree, sitting on a branch in clothing that seemed far too insubstantial, was Seamus. Despite the distance between us, I could tell he was troubled.  
  
"Seamus!" I called as I climbed into the tree.  
  
"Finished thinking already?" His voice had a bitter edge, one I didn't like.  
  
"There wasn't much to think about. I merely needed to see what my heart already knew." I sat next to him and took his hand in mine. It was cold.  
  
"Callie's been reading you too much poetry," he said, turning away from me. "Say what you need to, Will."  
  
"I'm trying," I answered. "I'm . . . sorry about my initial reaction. I have to admit, it was far from what I was expecting. You've probably startled a few people with that little discovery, right?" I looked hopefully at him. He stubbornly kept his head turned away, but he did not run nor let go my hand. I remembered what Simone had said. "But I would never take back anything of what I said earlier. Seamus, I love you, and nothing you ever do or say will change that."  
  
At first he was silent. Then he began to laugh softly. "Do you mean that, Will?" he whispered. There was fear in his query. "Do you really mean what you say? You're not just . . ."  
  
"No, never, heaven strike me down if I lie."  
  
He looked back at me as he squeezed my hand. His eyes were shining with the tears I had only seen their once before. Only this time, he let them spill. Shiny, soggy tracks appeared on his beautiful face, and I moved to take him in my arms. He sobbed as though he had not let himself loose his pain for many, many years. My shirt became damp, but still his arms twined about my shoulders, still I held him up.  
  
"Don't let go of me, don't let go of me," he repeated to my ear. "Don't you dare . . ."  
  
"I won't, I swear I won't." I kissed his forehead. I was surprised to find tears of my own on my cheeks. "This is love, isn't it?"  
  
He nodded silently, trying to regain his breath and wiping at his eyes. "Best go in now, Will," he said shakily. "Don't want to catch a cold, do you? Come on."  
  
He leapt out of the tree, and I followed a bit . . . less gracefully. Some things would never change. We climbed back into his rooms and he shut the window behind me. Seamus turned back to me and I returned his serious gaze.  
  
"Will, are you absolutely sure?" he asked sadly. "I can't help but think that you said what you said out of pity, or some other emotion I have no ken of. Lust is simple enough; I might even live through it. But love, love is serious. I won't have my emotions toyed with."  
  
"I would never toy with you, Seamus," I said. Hesitantly I made my way to him and embraced him as close as I could. "I don't want to leave you, ever."  
  
"And I don't want you to leave me. Will, I have a confession to make." He trembled slightly. "I - I think I love you. No, there's no 'think' about it. Will, I love you. And I don't give that word lightly."  
  
"I know, I know, and I love you too, Seamus, with all my heart and soul." I felt tears again.  
  
"You have to forgive me, Will. I was unfair to you. I should have told you sooner, before we even left Port Royal."  
  
"I don't mind, I understand now. And you need not ask forgiveness." I pulled away slightly so I could look him in the eyes. "Does it hurt? I mean . . ."  
  
He laughed and took my cheek in his hand. "Will, you will never change. No, it doesn't hurt. Not at all. It is . . . liberating, I suppose."  
  
"Can I see?"  
  
"My, you are funny, aren't you? Nobody's ever been so interested. And you won't be scared?"  
  
I shook my head. He sighed, took a step back, and he was gone again. The wolf stood there, looking like an accidental ink spill across space. I knelt down before him, now nose-to-nose with the alter ego of my lover. He licked my face with his sloppy canine tongue and gave me a wolfy smile.  
  
I laughed. It explained so many things, now that I knew this secret. I wasn't scared anymore; it just seemed right, somehow, that this was the way it turned out.  
  
"Come on, Will," he said when he was back. "What are you doing with clothes on at this ungodly hour?"  
  
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Sweet enough for you? Hope you weren't confused . . . still need some answers about Maggie's kid(s). Please review and tell me what you think! 


	21. Exploring his Lover

Ha, how 'bout that! I took a nice long break from this story to write some lovely Legolas/Aragorn. But I've returned, never fear! The story does continue, though I could have ended it where I left it at the last chapter.  
  
Hmm, we're going to heed to introduce something really angsty here soon. We're losing sight of our plotline. So hey, if you have any angsty ideas, how about giving them to me? see, the fundamental problem we have is we have a mortal man and an immortal werewolf. Conceivably, the story could go on forever . . . but I can't do that. I need some story fodder, if any of you have any to spare. So enjoy this chapter! It's a bit short, and I'm expecting many irate reviews.  
  
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I awoke, brushing black hair from the pillow around me. Seamus had told me he generally didn't "change skin," as he called it, in bed. He didn't like to shed where he slept, he said. As it was, he was curled up at the foot of the bed, tail over his nose. My awakening woke him, and he lifted his head and lolled his tongue at me.  
  
"Good morning to you too, Fido," I said jokingly.  
  
He crawled up to me and changed into the skin I knew him best in. "Indeed," he muttered, kissing my cheek. "You insult me by referring to one of my lower cousins, Will."  
  
For a while we lay in each other's arms, just enjoying the presence of one we loved. Suddenly, I heard a hesitant knocking at the door. Callie poked her head in.  
  
"Papa?" she asked.  
  
"Yes? What is it you want?" He lifted his head from my shoulder to look at her. What would Callie think when she saw her father in bed with me?  
  
"Nama said to tell you that breakfast is ready, and that you should come soon if you want any of it, because Gunter's eating it all up."  
  
"You can tell her we'll be right there, ma petite," he replied. As soon as she had shut the door, he sat up, smoothing back his hair. "We should be going. Gunter has an enormous appetite."  
  
"Is Callie one too?" I asked.  
  
"Yes. She's absolutely beautiful when she's furry." He bent to kiss my lips. "Up now, Will."  
  
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Well, I told you it was short. Running out of ideas, remember? Anyways, a MAJOR thanks to those who've been reviewing! I won't name you, you know who you are! But you guys keep me going. I'm working on the next chapter right now, and will have it up as promptly as I am able. I think it'll be a Maggie POV, what do you think? I've kinda left her out lately.  
  
So what are you waiting for?! Please review! 


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